


Rough Around the Edges

by Ixthalia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Big Brother Bucky Barnes, Body Worship, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escort Service, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Healing, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Modern Bucky Barnes, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Phone Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Touch-Starved, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ixthalia/pseuds/Ixthalia
Summary: There's nothing Bucky Barnes wouldn't do for his family. Nothing. So when faced with his sister's mounting medical bills and unable to find steady, well-paying work, he turns to an old friend in desperation.Working as an escort helps him chip away at the debt, but it isn't until a 'high roller' is sent his way that he lets himself hope. The young woman isn't at all what he expected though and while he struggles to maintain his charade, they grow closer.What were once lies, become real; and by the time he realizes he's in too deep, everything is at risk.*There will be an abundance of smut in chapters to come! Like, seriously, a ton!**Tags to be updated with each chapter, please see them! Scenes involving self harm and struggles with mental health could be triggering*
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 133
Kudos: 171





	1. Same Shit, Different Day

**Manhattan, NY**

The sun had set, and the townhouse was quiet, empty, and dark.

Amidst the darkness, Grace Kinsley was curled up under the covers of her king-sized bed in her master suite. Her long, flaxen blonde hair was greasy and dishevelled, messily put up in a bun atop her head. She was paler than she had been a year ago and she had dark circles under her eyes. She’d put on weight too, which only added to her self-loathing.

She let out a long, low sigh as she pulled the duvet up under her chin and savored the silence of the house.

It had been an impulse purchase after the death of her father, a place to go to get out of the home they’d shared as a family and the painful memories that had been around every corner. Now, the one hundred-and-fifty-year-old fully restored, historic home was her safe space.

Grace hadn’t left it in over a week and had no desire for that to change.

Not when everything she needed could be delivered to her front door and she had a credit card with no limit.

As she lay on her bed, her phone lit up to signal that she’d received a text message.

She knew who it was without looking.

Her father was dead, as was her brother. Her fiancé had left, having called off their wedding in a voicemail he’d left her a week after her father’s death. Her friends had moved on, their patience with her fading as the weeks dragged into months.

That left only one possibility.

The most stubborn woman in all of New York …

Turning her phone over lazily, she squinted at the bright light to make out her cousin’s message.

**M: ‘Rise and shine, sleepy head! I’ll be at your place in ten minutes! Party tonight!’**

**G: ‘Can’t. Not feeling well. Sorry.’**

The response was automatic, easy.

Grace didn’t belong anymore, trying just made it all the more apparent.

The life she’d fit into so easily before had been turned on its head and felt foreign and uncomfortable, like trying to shove your foot into a shoe two sizes too small. Her weak attempts fell flat.

This, her new home, felt safer, more comfortable.

The second she sat her cellphone down beside her on the bed, it rang.

With a groan, she accepted the call and brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?” Molly asked quickly, her concern evident in her tone, “Gracie, come on! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Molly –

“Gracie.”

“I’m not feeling well.”

“You never are, hun,” Molly said softly, “Gracie –

“Go without me.”

“How does that help me spend time with you?” she asked with a laugh.

Grace sighed, “Molly…please…”

She was tired. So fucking tired.

It didn’t matter how much sleep she got, there were times when it took everything she had just to meander down to the kitchen. Not that there was anything there save unused pots and pans. Which meant she ordered out.

Chinese. Lebanese. Italian. Indian. Japanese.

She knew the regular delivery guys by name at this point.

“Okay,” Molly’s delight was audible, “then I’ll come by – we can have a girl’s night in!”

“You don’t have to, Mol.”

Though not having to leave her house was more appealing, she didn’t really want Molly to see the state of the place.

“Maybe –

“Nonsense! We’ll order in, do each others’ nails, watch trashy movies…it’ll be awesome!”

Realizing she’d lost the fight; Grace rubbed her face and mumbled a quick ‘fine’.

“Awesome! I’ll be at your place in thirty – get ready for some fun, girly!”

Molly hung up before Grace could protest or ask for more time.

Thirty minutes?

Her fear of Molly seeing the mess she lived in gave her the energy to spring from her bed and try to make the place presentable. Of course, tidying five floors that had been neglected for weeks upon weeks wasn’t something she could do in so short a time.

Still, she knew she had to try.

If Molly saw how she was living…

She’d tell her mother and then Grace would lose them both.

Just as she had lost all her friends…

She crawled out of bed, flicked on the bedroom light and set about gathering up the bags and containers from her fast food. Deciding she didn’t have time to make her bed, she hurried down to the kitchen on the garden level of the home. There wasn’t much to clean there, as she hadn’t used the entire space in weeks, but the garbage needed tending to.

When it looked somewhat presentable, she shoved the garbage into the bin in the small garden off the family room on the same level, before sprinting up the stairs. She’d caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors in the dining room and knew she had to do something else she’d terrify Molly.

She was panting by the time she reached her bedroom and cursed herself for buying a home with so many floors.

Shirking off her worn leggings and baggy long-sleeved top, missing the hamper with a weak toss, she scoured her room for clean clothes. She settled on just a fresh pair of the same, as she’d gained too much weight to fit into the clothes she’d worn before. After slipping on a fresh pair of panties and a sports bra, she quickly put on the fresh clothes she’d picked and hurried back downstairs just as the doorbell rang.

_Nailed it!_

But when she opened the large oak and frosted glass door and stepped into the vestibule to open the wrought iron security door, Molly’s expression told her she hadn’t.

Molly Aldridge – the one person Grace could always count on to be smiling bright, looked positively horrified.

“Gracie,” Molly practically whispered, “hun…”

“I’m fine,” Grace insisted hurriedly, “come on in.”

She grabbed Molly by the hand and urged her inside. Once the doors were closed behind her, Molly dropped the bag of girl’s night in supplies she’d brought and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Molly –

“If you tell me you’re fine I’m gonna hit you,” Molly sniffled, her face pressed into Grace’s shoulder, “hun, I’m scared for you…”

Guilt hit her like a tidal wave.

Molly was two years her senior, her best friend and cousin, and her partner in crime since they were small. The thought of losing her…

“I’m fine –

Molly pulled back in a huff and smacked her arm.

With tears in her eyes and chin quivering, she looked Grace up and down.

She nervously crossed her arms, uncomfortable with Molly’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Hun, when was the last time you had a bubble bath? Or any bath for that matter.”

Grace shrugged.

“Or ate a good meal?”

Again, Grace shrugged.

Molly rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“Go shower, I’ll see what I can make us in your kitchen.”

“I,” Grace swallowed hard, “I don’t have any groceries…”

Molly choked on a sob and pushed Grace towards the stairs.

“Shower. I’ll order us some food.”

Reluctantly, Grace did as she was bid, ascending the stairs and stepping into the master suite.

The attached bathroom was massive, with a huge soaker jacuzzi tub and a separate walk-in shower lined with marble. She’d yet to use the tub and didn’t have the energy to attempt it now.

So she stripped and stepped into the shower, making a point to ignore her reflection in the mirror.

Before everything went to hell, she’d taken good care of herself. She was smart about what she ate, went on runs with Molly and her friends, and did yoga.

Now…well, she didn’t recognize herself.

Her stomach was soft, and she could pinch fat where before she couldn’t. Her breasts were larger, her hips fuller. It made wearing something other then leggings, sports bras and baggy shirts impossible.

But it got worse than that.

She had scars and fresh cuts up and down her forearms, evidence of just how low she had fallen.

_God, if Molly knew…_

She showered as quickly as she could muster, forgoing hair conditioner and shaving her legs to speed things up.

When she was dressed and had brushed out her hair, she went down to the kitchen.

Molly was leaning against the island; her brown hair having fallen forward to obscure her features.

But Grace knew she was crying, the subtle shake of her shoulders giving her way.

“Mol…”

Fuck, she felt so guilty.

Added to the crippling depression she’d endured for months, it was damn near suffocating.

“I’ve got sushi on its way,” Molly said in a hushed tone, “hope that’s okay…”

“Yeah, sounds good…”

Grace didn’t know what more to say.

Molly did.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you, Gracie,” she looked up, crying, “and I can’t…I can’t bear it.”

“You’re not gonna,” Grace said, stepping around the island to face her, “I’m right here.”

“But you’re not, you haven’t been for a while,” Molly countered.

Grace swallowed hard but felt her own tears coming.

“I’m…trying my best.”

Molly nodded, “I know, but I’m still scared.”

She was interrupted by the doorbell.

Brushing aside her tears, Molly grabbed her wallet and hurried up the stairs without another word.

Grace let out a shaky breath.

In truth, she was scared too. She didn’t know who she was anymore, her identity having been sucked away with all her energy. Everything was so much harder, the days long and lonely.

The quiet of the house, while comforting at times only reminded her how alone she was at others.

Only her echo answered her most days.

Others…well…there were days she didn’t utter a word.

It had been so different at her dad’s house. He’d often worked from home, and she could still faintly recall the sound of his rapid typing as he worked at his computer in his office. She and her brother had been attending NYU at the time and chose to live with him to shorten their commute to class. While some might scoff at the idea of them still living at home, they’d loved it.

Dinners together, their father proofreading the papers they wrote for school, movie night in their home theatre…

Gone, cut short.

By ruthless, crippling cancer…by a drunkard too sloshed to know not to get behind the wheel…

Molly came back downstairs and started unpacking the take-out bag.

Grace looked to her.

“Mol –

“I’ve lost a cousin,” Molly said firmly, not looking at her, “and an uncle I loved fiercely. I cannot and will not lose you.”

Grace’s chin quivered and she bit her lip to try and still it.

“I dunno what to do, Mol,” she admitted in a whisper, “feel like I’m suffocating…”

Molly sighed, stepping away from the sushi to approach her.

She grabbed Grace’s hands and squeezed them affectionately.

“I know, hun. We need to find a way to get you back on your feet and enjoying life again.”

Grace could see the wheels turning in Molly’s head but couldn’t shake the hopelessness that engulfed her.

Early on, she had tried. Attended parties, tried to schmooze with her usual gang of friends…

But she felt alone in a crowded room and it wasn’t long before her energy ran out and she stopped trying.

Molly gave a bright ‘ah-ha’ and shook her hips, excited by her idea.

“We need to get you a guy!”

Grace scoffed.

“Mol –

“You need a hot date! Someone tall, dark and handsome to spoil you and treat you right!”

She immediately thought of Max and her heart sank.

Two years of highs and lows and trust…thrown away like it had been nothing the moment she’d needed him most…

She couldn’t put herself out like that again, not now.

Not when everything, even breathing, hurt.

“I can’t,” she managed, voice tight and pained, “Mol, I’m a mess…I can’t…”

Who’d want her?

If ‘hot mess’ was in the dictionary, her picture would be right next to it.

Molly hummed as she mulled over an idea.

“You need to get your feet wet,” she thought aloud, “with someone you can trust…who’d spoil you like you deserve…”

Grace gave a forced laugh.

“Got a guy like that in your back pocket?”

Confident she didn’t, Grace let go of Molly’s hands and made for the sushi.

“Promise you won’t judge me?” Molly began, following her.

Grace looked at her, saw just how serious she seemed, and was concerned.

“What? Molly…what is it?”

“Promise,” she pressed.

Grace nodded.

“I know of a…company,” Molly began cautiously, “they have an office here in New York...they could help.”

“Help? How?”

Some fancy therapist? Group counselling?

She'd tried both early on to no avail.

The thought of giving it another go wasn't appealing.

She wasn’t sure how that related to her finding a guy, though, but it was all she could come up with. Besides, she wasn’t well and having a relationship didn’t feel like something she could or should do.

During the two years she spent with Max, she asked herself daily how she snagged a guy like him.

He was handsome, intelligent, well spoken…

And now, when she was in such a low, it just didn’t seem feasible.

“They match wealthy clients with…sophisticated men and women to spend time with.”

Grace looked at her, confused then mortified as she put it together.

“A prostitute? You’re telling me to hire a prostitute?”

Molly quickly shook her head.

“No! God, no! I’m telling you to get yourself a smokin’ escort! A pro!”

“What!”

“What?” Molly shrugged, digging into her sushi, “you’d be paying for their time, Gracie. Sex isn’t a guarantee and you’re in charge, nothing happens if you don’t want it to.”

Incredulous, Grace found her voice.

“You’re serious?”

“Why not?” Molly shrugged, “the company is just playing match maker. They’re really good. You tell them what you’re looking for in an ideal ‘date’ and set you up, whatever you and the guy they match you with do on your time is your business.”

“Molly!”

“What? I’ve only done it once,” she poked her in the shoulder, “and you promised not to judge me!”

Grace sighed, “Mol, I’m not judging you. It’s just…weird…and, well, it seems desperate.”

How low had she fallen if this was a legitimate option for her?

“It’s not,” Molly assured her, “the guy I went out with said most people they entertain are just lonely, which is why you pay for their time and not necessarily sex.”

The idea of having sex honestly made her very nervous. Before Max, she’d only been with one other man and with her confidence in the gutter, it really didn’t appeal to her.

“Still…”

“You’re telling me cuddling with a gorgeous man who lavishes affection on you, doesn’t appeal to you in the slightest?”

_Well, when you put it that way…_

“I don’t know…”

“You should at least meet with one of their reps and discuss what you’d like. If they don’t think they can meet your needs, they’ll tell you, but I bet they’ll have someone for you.”

“Molly…”

“Listen,” she grasped Grace’s hand and looked her in the eye, “I’m so fucking scared for you, Gracie. I mean it when I say I can’t lose you…”

Grace gave a weak, sad smile.

“Try this,” Molly practically pleaded, “I’ll give the rep I met with your email. Meet with her. Try.”

She groaned.

It still screamed of desperation.

But she was lonely, painfully so.

She wanted to scream and cry and return to the safety of her bed to pretend Molly hadn’t suggested this.

“’m a mess, Mol,” she muttered, gaze downcast in shame, “no guy, even one I hire, would wanna spend time with me…”

“Bullshit.”

Grace looked up and Molly poked her in the chest.

“You are a beautiful person,” she stared at her, eyes watery, “you’re good and sweet and way better then that asshole you were gonna marry ever deserved.”

Grace let out a shaky laugh.

“You’re just hurting, hun,” Molly continued, smiling through her tears, “and that’s okay. You’re human. But you deserve to be happy, you deserve to be spoiled and made to feel special.”

“I –

“Try this,” she pressed, “for me.”

Grace groaned.

_She had to add that…_

“Fine.”

* * *

Grace woke up the next day around noon.

She rolled over and pawed at her phone on her bedside table, knocking her long-neglected book off in the process.

She didn’t behind over the edge of the bed to fetch it.

Blinking the fog from her eyes, she looked at her phone and realized she had an email.

She clicked the envelope icon, expecting nothing more then spam, only to realize to her horror that Molly had done what she said she would.

**Ms. Kinsley,**

**I’m writing to you at the request of our mutual friend. She explained to me that you’re in need of a gentleman to spend time with and expressed her desire for my company to match you with such an individual. She also mentioned to me your hesitancy, and I can assure you that is completely natural.**

**If you would like to take the first step, please reply so we can arrange a meeting. It would entail you and I having a discussion regarding your needs, nothing more. I will walk you through this process and address any questions or concerns you have. Rest assured, we strictly maintain our client’s confidentiality.**

**I look forward to hearing from you.**

**Kind Regards,**

**Natasha Romanoff**

**Head Facilitator, Skyline Heights Introductions Inc.**

Grace read it through multiple times, but still wasn’t sure if she should reply.

What if it wasn’t legit? What if someone found out or recognized her?

The idea of it terrified her.

Her company her father founded and led with her aunt was still going strong, and their names were known by the city’s elite. While she had always flown under the radar, never a major player on the New York social scene, and had avoided parties for the last year, there was still that fear that somehow others would know.

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

Molly knowing of her desperation was one thing…but anyone else…

Wary, she Googled the company and checked out their website. It was professional and the local office itself appeared to be up-and-coming but well respected. Reviews and testimonials were largely positive. She checked their stocks too and was pleasantly surprised by their numbers.

Coupled with Molly’s recommendation, she felt a bit better.

_Still…_

It seemed a great way to toss aside that last little bit of self-respect she had…

As she mulled it over, an alert popped up on her phone and she paled.

Not long after Max left her, she’d made a Google alert for his name.

It was creepy and sad, but she’d done it, nonetheless.

Nervously, she opened it.

Upon reading the name of the article, she felt immediately nauseous.

**“Rising NY Playboy Steps Out with New GF for Night on the Town”**

The picture attached showed Max hand-and-hand with a beautiful, buxom blonde.

Grace’s chest tightened and her eyes stung as tears welled.

He was a piece of shit for ending things the way he had, but it killed to see him carrying on so effortlessly while she floundered.

Had it been that easy to walk away from her? Two years…and he cut it off just like that.

She rolled up her sleeve and looked, through tear blurred eyes, at the self-inflicted wounds upon her skin.

Some new, some long faded, some still healing…

Some across the width of her wrist, others down the length of her forearm.

Her dad would be horrified if he knew.

_Disappointed._

The word weighed heavy on her.

Her brother…he’d demand answers. He’d be angry, then hug her so tight she couldn’t breathe…

Fuck, she missed them.

Losing them had knocked her off her feet. She may as well have lost limbs, when she lost them, and she didn’t know what to do.

She was an orphan.

Lost.

Alone.

A single lonely soul amongst eight-and-a-half million.

Treading water while a grasping hand neared her ankle, eager to pull her down…

And somewhere, deep down, she knew it would succeed if she did nothing.

So hit the reply button and typed.

**Natasha,**

**When and where.**

**Grace.**


	2. Floundering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wakes up to hopeful news, Grace tries to find her footing.

**Brooklyn, NY**

His alarm woke him just before 6am and he rolled over, hitting it hard to silence it.

Groaning, Bucky rubbed his face and questioned, for the millionth time, if he really needed his shitty job down at the docks.

_You do, you idiot. Get off your ass._

He stood, naked, and began digging through his dresser for something that would make him pass for presentable. The motion of opening the dresser drawer was enough to send white hot, shooting pain up his left arm and he grit his teeth as he massaged the mangled limb.

Ten years in the military, four tours, and an IED had brought it all to an end.

He swallowed an extra strength Tylenol without water and took a second to compose himself.

Looking at the long, twisting scars down his arm, he grimaced.

They’d called him lucky; to have walked away with scars and little more. The others in the truck with him weren’t so fortunate.

Bucky squeezed his bicep were the dull, persistent pain was worst.

The doctors had offered something stronger than Tylenol, of course, but after a childhood spent watching his addict father pummel his mother, he swore never to touch narcotics.

They were a slippery slope that led nowhere pleasant.

_Its not bad, not really._

Bucky figured if he told himself that often enough, he’d believe it.

As he dressed, he heard his phone vibrate from his bedside table.

He checked it and was surprised to see her name flash across the screen.

He swiped to open the message.

**N: Might have someone for you, I’ll keep you posted.**

Bucky groaned.

When he was honorably discharged after his injury, he thought everything would be fine. He’d fought and nearly died for his country, how could it not?

But his government checks only covered his portion of the rent. Steve was good enough to let him eat his food, but he had a mountain of debt he was responsible for and few employers wanted to hire a guy with a bum arm.

_Can’t blame ‘em…_

So, in an act of desperation, he’d taken up Natasha’s offer.

He supposed it wasn’t so bad. Most guys would probably love it.

But fucking desperate housewives to pay the bills wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

He wasn’t refined or privileged, like many who worked for SHII, but he was a good actor and did a decent job passing for it. But socialites with the big trust funds didn’t want a guy with the scars he had.

So, he took what he could get.

Which wasn’t SHII’s top clientele.

**B: Someone new?**

A pause, and then –

**N: Yeah. Haven’t met with her yet so not set in stone, but she’s a high roller.**

_What?_

**B: Come again?**

**N: Eyesight going, old man? High roller. From what I know so far from her referral, I think you’d be the best fit.**

**B: You been drinking, Nat?**

**N: Yes, but that’s besides the point. This goes through, and you won’t have to worry about money. Ever.**

Bucky had to reread it a few times, and even then, he didn’t believe it.

At thirty-seven years old, he’d spent his entire adult life worrying about money. Before he enlisted, it was trying to claw his way to something better, something his mom could be proud of him for. When he enlisted, it was making sure his mom and sisters kept the roof over their head. After…well, it was making sure his sister continued to get the medical treatment she needed.

**B: Please don’t be yanking me.**

**N: Wouldn’t dream of it.**

**B: Nat…**

She’d been his friend for years and had told him she’d do her best to send the good ones his way, but she’d struck out so far in getting him a high roller. He knew she was trying, but he’d started to at least attempt to come to terms with the reality that it might just not happen.

If this was legit…

It would be life changing.

For more than just him.

**N: I’m in your corner, Buck. Let me work my magic, I’ll keep you in the loop.**

He let out a shaky, nervous breath.

_God, please…come on…I need this…_

**B: You’re a superstar.**

**N: Don’t you forget it ;)**

He tucked this phone in his pocket after ensuring it was off vibrate and pulled on a shirt as he stepped from his room.

Steve was in the kitchen, cooking eggs and bacon.

He looked up at the sound of Bucky’s bedroom door opening and smiled.

“Mornin’.”

Then, taking in the stunned expression on his friend’s face, continued.

“You okay, Buck?”

He swallowed hard and managed a nod.

Steve knew what he did and not only didn’t judge him for it, he opened his home to him and did all he could to help him. He made sure he made it to his meetings at the VA and his doctors’ appointments, encouraged him, fought for him…

He didn’t think he could ever repay the man.

“Nat,” Bucky said slowly, “Nat might have something for me.”

“Something good?” Steve asked as he loaded up a plate for him.

Bucky took it with a grateful smirk.

“Something amazing. Game changing…if it goes through.”

“You mean?”

“A high roller,” Bucky nodded, “still have no idea why Nat would think of me, but, Steve if this happens…”

“It will,” Steve said, ever the optimist, “you’re due a break, man.”

Bucky agreed.

He’d paid his dues, done his best to do right by the people he loved and gotten the shaft one too many times.

But he knew people rarely got what they deserved.

Still…if he didn’t have hope…what did he really have left?

* * *

**Manhattan, NY**

Grace forced herself to open the living room curtains and look around the room. She grimaced as numerous dust bunnies were revealed.

A vibration from her phone pushed the offending tumbleweeds from her mind, and she dug in her sweater pocket as she slumped on the couch.

She swiped the screen of her phone and checked her emails.

Amongst the spam, was the one she was hoping for but also dreading.

**Ms. Kinsley,**

**Tomorrow night, 8pm, Sunlight Lounge – you know the place?**

**Natasha.**

Grace had never been, but she knew the place. An upscale Manhattan lounge with a rooftop terrace that was supposed to be phenomenal.

Old Grace, the one from _before_ , would have loved it.

She supposed it was a fine place to meet.

But she knew she’d need something fancier than what she currently had that fit.

That meant shopping.

_Great…Molly will be thrilled…_

**Ms. Romanoff,**

**I do, I’ll be there.**

**Grace.**

Immediately, she texted Molly.

**G: So…it’s gonna happen.**

She didn’t have to wait long for a reply, never did.

**M: Yay! Where? When?**

**G: Tomorrow, Sunlight Lounge.**

**M: Ohhhh, fancy! Shopping?**

**G: Yes, down for joining?**

**M: Hell, yes! I’ll be by this afternoon to pick you up. 3 work?**

Grace rolled her eyes.

**G: I’ll have to clear my schedule, but yes, I can make it work.**

**M: Yay! See you then, hun! Xo**

Shopping adventure confirmed, Grace noticed a new email in her inbox.

**Ms. Kinsley,**

**Fantastic. The reservation is under ‘Romanoff’. Should you arrive before me, please feel free to order whatever you like. I look forward to meeting you and determining how we can best help you.**

**Have a pleasant day,**

**Natasha.**

Grace let out a shaky breath.

_So…this is happening…_

Worry set in and she bit nervously at her nails.

She was going to meet a facilitator…for an escort service…

Molly’s particular brand of bizarre must be rubbing off on her.

* * *

Molly was at her door at 3pm on the dot, smiling and downright giddy.

It had taken Grace three hours to drag herself through the process of making herself presentable. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, her skin clean and teeth brushed. She was without makeup, and wearing leggings, a loose sweater, and flats…but she felt she looked better than she had in a while.

Molly, thank god, had dressed relatively conservative.

_Shouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb…hopefully…_

“Gracie! You look good!”

Grace managed a small, self-depreciating laugh.

“Thanks, Mol. Shall we do this?”

They got into her car and Molly instructed her driver to take them to Fifth Avenue.

_Oh, lord, I’m in for it…_

At her best, Grace had a hard time keeping up with Molly. She supposed it was her general excitement and enthusiasm for…well, everything.

“We’ve got to do this right,” Molly began, clearly wanting to strategize their afternoon, “get our nails done, find you something classy for tomorrow night and something super fucking sexy for your date with –

“She might not have anyone for me, Mol.”

“Nonsense! She will!” she dismissed, “we’ve got to get you some killer lingerie too!”

Grace paled and felt her chest tighten.

“I…I really don’t think I can do that right now, Mol. I…this is a lot and –

Molly grabbed her hand and smiled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she squeezed her hand, “baby steps.”

Grace sighed, relieved.

“Thank you.”

Molly gave a bright smile.

“No, thank you, for trying this! I’m so proud of you for trying, whatever comes of this.”

_Whatever comes…_

* * *

Molly dropped her off at her house late, with the demand for details after her meeting with Natasha the next night.

She was exhausted, but they’d at least been successful.

And, much to her relief, she’d been able to conceal the state of her arms from Molly as they hopped from store to store.

Trudging up the steps to her front door, she groaned with relief upon stepping into her home. She dropped her bags, locking up and setting the alarm.

Almost immediately though, the silence of the house hit her.

Alone. She was alone again.

It was deflating.

Somehow, she found the energy to drag her purchases up the stairs with her to her bedroom. Unpacking everything was out of the picture though.

She collapsed on her bed and pulled her phone from her pocket.

Grace knew she shouldn’t, it would only hurt, but for now she didn’t care.

She pulled up the article about Max from before.

**“Rising NY Playboy Steps Out with New GF for Night on the Town”**

The woman he was with was apparently an aspiring actress from an influential family on the west coast. Grace had never heard of her, or her family, but it hardly mattered. Max’s new flame was gorgeous. Flawless in her tight cocktail dress and heels, she looked like she belonged on the arm of someone like him.

Teary eyed, Grace rolled over and off the bed, making for the bathroom.

She dug through her vanity and produced the razor blade she relied on to dull the pain. She closed the toilet lid and sat down, holding her breath as she pressed it to her left arm. The initial wince of pain and rise of blood was enough for her to let out the breath.

Deep down, Grace knew it was stupid. Scars never truly faded, but when the blade bit her flesh things felt a little less overwhelming.

It was a distraction, however brief, that allowed her to reset her mind and ease the tension that paralyzed her.

She dropped the blade on the counter and pressed an insanely expensive hand towel to her arm.

Despite the relief it brought, she felt tears trail down her cheeks.

_I…I can’t do this anymore…_

She wanted to be able to breathe without her chest tightening.

She wanted to sleep without waking from dreams of all she had lost.

She wanted to feel something other than pain and misery.

Feel joy and not guilt when she smiled.

Was it too much to ask?

* * *

**Brooklyn, NY**

He was balls deep in a wailing, begging housewife whose only volume seemed to be loud.

Very, very loud.

It was more than a tad excessive.

But he couldn’t be bothered, because for the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name.

_Anne?_

She was bent over the arm of the couch, bare ass presented to him. Her skirt was hiked up, pantyhose torn, and panties pulled aside to allow him access.

_Charlotte?_

She was naked from the waist up, the tattered remains of her blouse scattered about the apartment.

_Definitely starts with a ‘C’. Connie?_

Jeans down around his ankles, he thrusted hard and fast just as she liked, eager to see her to completion.

_Candy? Nah, Sandy? Maybe it was an ‘S’?_

He was clothed from the waist up, always was. Any of the women he entertained who saw his scars recoiled.

Again, hard to blame them.

Besides, his arm wasn’t the appendage they wanted him for.

“Harder! Fuck me hard, baby!” the woman demanded through gritted teeth.

Bucky closed his eyes and tried to just feel.

Made finishing easier.

_Sophie? Nah…Sally?_

His bicep had taken the brunt of the damage, save a long scar down his forearm from reconstructive efforts. He had scars over his left shoulder blade and down his side. Some from burns, others from shrapnel.

None appealing.

He hit her sweet spot, felt her clamp tight around him and pounded into her.

_Come on, Sandy…Sally…whoever…get there so I can get home and shower…_

A second later, his wish came true and she screamed as her orgasm hit her, leaving her a shaky, quivering mess under his hands.

He followed her not long after.

_Thank fuck…_

He unceremoniously pulled from her and removed the condom, tying it and tossing it aside.

She found her voice as he hiked up his jeans and was zipping up his fly.

“Same time next month?” she asked, a satisfied smirk on her lips.

He nodded, buckling his belt and adjusting his Henley sweater.

Sandy…yeah, that was her name…had been one of his regulars since he started. She always texted him the day before her check came and he always begrudgingly went to her cramped apartment. She was strange, and loud, but she paid him well; a bit more for travel.

He’d told her he came all the way from the Bronx, got him a bit more cash.

Just enough to cover the experimental drug Rebecca was taking that was, so far, showing positive results.

Sandy hadn’t moved from the couch and from the way her legs shook, she wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“I’ll let myself out,” he said, voice low.

He grabbed the roll of cash she’d left on the counter and left without a backward glance.

On the subway ride home, he pulled out his phone and typed a brief message for Natasha.

**B: Let me know as soon as the meeting’s done, won’t you?**

Nat had texted him as he’d arrived at Sandy’s to tell him the time of the meeting she’d scheduled with the mystery woman the following day, and his nerves were shot with worry.

This had to work, had to be it.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure the Sandys’ of the business.

**N: Of course. Sit tight, Buck. I’ve got you.**

**B: Fuck, I hope so. Can you tell me anything about her?**

**N: Bucky.**

**B: Come on, Nat.**

She rarely gave him anything without it being a done deal, hating to disappoint, but he needed something.

**N: Fine. She’s twenty-four years old, millionaire’s daughter. Big trust fund, bigger inheritance. That is all you’re getting from me, sir.**

Only twenty-four? Fuck, she was young.

What was a young woman using an escort service for? The thrill of it? To piss of mommy and daddy?

Most of the women he saw were his age or a bit older…

**B: So young?**

**N: Millionaire’s daughter. Trust fund. Inheritance. Focus, Barnes.**

She had a point.

**B: And I’m the best fit?**

**N: Patience. Let me work my magic.**

**B: Fine.**

**N: Contain your enthusiasm.**

**B: Give me more.**

**N: Not in your dreams. I told you – sit tight, I’ve got you.**

She ignored his next attempt to pry more from her, and the next.

By the third try, she’d sent him the middle-finger emoji.

With a heavy sigh, he tucked his phone back into his pants pocket and rubbed his face.

He needed a shower…and maybe a drink.

* * *

Thankfully, Steve knew to not only leave the shower available for when he came home, but to have a beer ready for him.

After standing under the scalding hot water for longer than anyone should, he turned off the water and stepped out of the tiny shower stall.

He felt a little less disgusting but considered stepping back into the shower.

He thought better of it though.

Water wasn’t included in their rent, after all.

He put on worn sweatpants and was tugging on a fresh Henley when he stepped out into their tiny living room that doubled as a dinning room.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve asked, ever compassionate, as he handed Bucky his beer.

Bucky shook his head.

“Talked to Nat a bit on the way home, got a bit out of her.”

That surprised Steve.

“Really? She must be confident, that’s good – right?”

He didn’t want to get Bucky’s hopes up, but he knew the man needed some encouragement.

The last year had really kicked his ass.

Bucky shrugged.

“Just that she’s a millionaire’s daughter, supposedly has a stupid amount of money.”

“That’s amazing!”

“And she’s twenty-four.”

“That’s…younger than they usually are, right?”

He nodded.

“Most young women rolling in dough aren’t hurtin’ for a man’s company,” Bucky muttered, taking a long sip of the cheap beer.

“What do you think her deal is?” Steve asked, curious.

Bucky had asked himself that very question the entire way home. None of the things he came up with were terribly positive.

“A spoiled brat rebelling against her parents,” he sighed, “bucket list, a dare…I dunno, Stevie, maybe she has gills.”

Steve choked on his beer, laughing.

Bucky groaned, “If she does, you’re fucking her.”

Steve shook his head.

“Sorry, Buck, Wanda wouldn’t approve.”

_Ah, the girlfriend._

“How are things going with her, by the way?” Bucky asked.

The dumb, dopey look on his face was answer enough.

“That good?” he questioned, smirking.

Nothing made him happier than seeing his oldest, dearest friend so happy. Wanda was smart, kind, and seemed equally taken with Steve.

_Good…someone in this fucking apartment should be happy…_

Steve, having reined in his giddy delight, nodded.

“You know…cautiously optimistic.”

Bucky snorted, “Sure.”

“You know,” Steve began, “she has a few cute friends…”

He sighed.

They’d had half-conversations about this before, Bucky always squashing them before they really took off.

He didn’t like what he needed to do, but he tried not to dwell too much on it.

After all, it wasn’t about him.

“Can’t afford it, Stevie. If they can’t pay and I can’t keep the money flowing towards Becca’s medical bills –

“I know, I know,” he interjected, “I’m sorry, man. Shouldn’t have said anything.”

“’s fine,” Bucky said with a small, weak shrug, “gotta do what I gotta do for the family.”

Of course, his family didn’t know.

Odd jobs.

Freelancing.

Casual work on construction sites and, of course, down at the docks.

He had a dozen excuses, all at the tip of his tongue.

“’m gonna go to bed,” he chugged the last of his beer, “night, man.”

Steve nodded and watched sadly as his friend, beaten down and on his last legs, retreated to his room.

Steve knew he needed something…anything, to keep him going.

_Fuck…this has to go through…_


	3. Leap of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace meets with Natasha, Bucky prepares for their date.

**Sunlight Lounge, Manhattan, NY**

Grace sat in the backseat of what had been her father’s Rolls Royce, nervously cracking and wringing her fingers as she eyed the lounge entrance.

_This is a bad idea…_

She’d chosen a long-sleeved white blouse with an open neck, a red A-line skirt and Christian Louboutin pumps. There was a time when slipping into those shoes – her favorites – had been enough to ignite her confidence.

Now, it felt more like a bluff.

_Yeah…this is a really fucking stupid idea…_

Her hair was down, pressed and perfect for the first time in months. She’d even managed, with Molly’s help, to apply some makeup.

“You alright, Ms. Kinsley?” her new driver, Sam, asked.

She looked ahead and saw him twisted in his seat to look back at her.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

“Just nervous for this meeting.”

“I’m sure it’ll go fine,” he said, encouraging and polite, “you’ve got this.”

Grace gave a small smile.

“Thank you, Sam.”

He nodded.

“You want me to hang around?”

She turned back to the lounge.

_It’s now or never…_

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be,” she admitted, “I’ll text you when I’m getting ready to leave, but you should park with the valet, maybe get something to eat.”

He smirked at the mention of food.

“Can do!”

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slowly emerged, a bit unsteady on her heels. Once her footing was secure, she rustled up the fragments of her confidence and approached the concierge.

The mention of her name piqued the man’s interest, but it was mentioning ‘Romanoff’ that got her the ‘ah-ha’ she was looking for.

The man quickly led her into the lounge, attempting to make polite small talk as they passed a full hall. Patrons sat around small, intimate tables; laughing and sipping fancy, colourful cocktails.

Yes, it really was the sort of place she would have enjoyed…

Now, it felt cramped and uncomfortably loud.

“Ms. Romanoff arrived a few minutes before you, miss. She’s enjoying a drink in one of our private suites,” the concierge explained as he led her up an impressive, large spiral staircase.

Inwardly, she scolded herself for not arriving before Natasha. It felt like a bad first impression and she hoped that she really had only been waiting for her briefly.

Stepping into the private suite the concierge had led her to, she saw a gorgeous red head seated at the table.

The woman, Natasha, stood and smiled as the door closed behind them, muting the goings-on below.

The little black dress she wore was tasteful but tight, highlighting her every curve. Her rich red locks rolled over her shoulders in waves, and her jewelry and makeup were minimal.

Women as stunning as her didn’t need an abundance of either.

“Ms. Kinsley,” Natasha said, politely shaking her hand, “it’s a pleasure.”

“Please, Grace is fine,” she smiled.

Natasha gestured for her to take a seat and Grace did, setting her clutch on the table and adjusting her skirt.

“I hope you don’t mind, I ordered you a Tequila Sunrise,” Natasha spoke, gesturing to the drink before her, “Molly told me it was one of your favorites.”

“Thank you.”

Grace took a small sip, the tequila and orange juice a pleasant tang on her tongue.

She looked to Natasha, nerves bubbling.

“What else did Molly tell you about me?”

“Only enough to give me a general understanding of what you need,” Natasha explained, “I never expect a referral to give me every detail.”

“A referral?”

Natasha nodded, “To help maintain the confidentiality of our more elite clientele we like to have a referral from someone we’ve already assisted.”

Seemed practical.

Still…

“You can relax, Grace,” Natasha continued, a sympathetic smirk on her lips, “this is just a conversation to gauge your needs. I only ask that you’re as honest about what you’d like as possible, so I can be sure to find you precisely what you require.”

Grace gave a quick nod and let out a tight breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so nervous. This…isn’t something I ever thought I’d consider doing.”

“I understand,” Natasha took a sip of her margarita, “can you tell me a bit about your circumstances, what has you considering this as an option?”

Grace nervously fidgeted with the straw of her drink, suddenly unable to look up at Natasha.

“Things have been…well, awful,” she began, “in the last year I’ve…I’ve had to arrange funerals for my father and my brother and…the man I thought I loved and who loved me broke off our engagement…”

Natasha was patient, silent.

Grace risked a small glance up as she searched for her words.

“I was…am depressed. It was a lot to expect my friends to handle and…”

“They left?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Grace.”

The sincerity in her tone surprised Grace. Surely, she had heard every sob story in the book.

It was surprisingly refreshing, and she felt a bit of tension leave her shoulders.

“I…thank you. I’ve…been completely alone except for Molly, who seems too stubborn to scare off.”

Natasha smiled.

“She cares about you very much. I could tell the second she told me about you.”

“I’m very lucky to have her,” Grace said with confidence, “I know she’s afraid for me…”

Natasha watched her closely.

“Are you afraid?”

Grace felt tears spring to her eyes and bit her lip, glancing quickly back down to her drink.

She was. She didn’t want to go home to her quiet, dark, empty home but it was the only place she felt safe. Even here, in a private suite with just Natasha, she felt anxious. But greater than the fear she knew, was the fear that nothing would come from this meeting.

If Natasha couldn’t help her, she’d have to try counseling again or attempt to change her medication. The thought of going to her doctor didn’t appeal to her, as he’d been certain the current mix of medication she was on would do the trick. It was stupid, but she didn’t want to rock the boat or be difficult.

“Yes,” she finally answered, her voice a whisper, “I feel like I’m suffocating…most days at least. It’s hard to get out of bed, let alone leave the house…”

“You’re here now.”

Grace gave a short, half-hearted laugh.

“Believe me…getting here wasn’t easy. This,” she gestured to herself, to her designer clothes and neat hair, “is a façade.”

The admission caused her eyes to water.

Natasha nodded, taking in all she was saying and considering everything closely.

“Thank you…for finding a way to get here.”

Grace brushed aside her tears as best she could without disturbing her makeup.

“C-Can you help me?” she asked, looking to Natasha, “I’m not asking for the impossible, am I?”

“No, you’re not, Grace.”

“Thank god,” she breathed.

“Can we talk about the type of man you’re hoping to find?”

“I…I don’t know, honestly,” Grace stammered, caught off guard.

She really hadn’t given it much thought. Getting to her meeting with Natasha had been her chief worry, thinking about the type of person she needed…well, that had kind of fallen by the wayside.

“How do you want to feel with him?” Natasha prompted.

Grace took a small sip of her drink as she considered her question.

With Max, it had been safe. They’d been together two years, had known each other for longer, and it had been comfortable. Comfortable, but not perfect. She’d often wished he’d wanted to stay home, cuddle up and watch tv more. Yes, parties and fancy dinner were nice, but her fondest memories of him had been those intimate moments.

“Safe,” she finally said, “comfortable and secure. I want…to hold hands and sit beside someone on the couch and just…be…be appreciated during those small moments.”

“Touch is important to you then?”

Grace nodded.

“Max…never really held my hand. At parties, he’d take my arm but that was about it. I remember…wanting to be close, just having him hold me, but…”

He was always so composed and focused. And there were times, many times, when all she wanted was for him to just stay in bed with her and snuggle.

But the request seemed foolish, selfish, so she’d largely kept it to herself; savoring the few moments when it happened by chance.

“Is sex something you have to have then?”

Grace flushed bright red and quickly shook her head.

“I’m…no, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready for…that. I’m a mess and –

“You’re not a mess,” Natasha reassured her, lightly touching her hand, “its okay. Just take a breath and explain as best you can.”

Grace took a deep, slow breath and nodded.

“I think…it’s something I will want but…I’m nervous and scared and…”

She bit her quivering lip.

_Fuck, keep it together, Kinsley…_

“Not at my best.”

Inwardly, she filled in the blanks.

_I’m a fat, nervous wreck whose more comfortable in sweats now than Gucci…who’d want me?_

“That’s okay,” Natasha said, “can we agree its something you’d want eventually but you need touch and time and security first more importantly?”

“Yes,” Grace said with a heavy sigh of relief, thankful the woman could make sense of her ramblings.

Natasha smirked, “So what does this ideal man look like?”

Another question she wasn’t prepared for.

_Great…_

Max was tall and slim, always clean shaven and blemish free. He was polite and refined, with dark, well kept hair and a commanding personality. He was always at his best when he was at a party, entertaining a few dozen people with stories of his (often exaggerated) adventures.

But if Natasha wanted to know her ideal…

“Tall, handsome,” she began, still blushing, “dark hair, maybe…maybe a bit longer so I could run my fingers through it…”

Natasha smiled to herself.

“Older? Your age?”

“Older.”

“Clean shaven? A bit rugged?”

“Max…he was always clean shaven and…the few times he wasn’t I…really liked it.”

In truth, she’d loved it. But it never lasted long. Max hated it and even went so far as to have his chest waxed.

It was what he preferred, how he was comfortable, so she’d bit her tongue.

“Do you prefer slim and lean or big and muscular?”

Grace toyed with the straw.

“If we’re talking ideal…”

“We are,” Natasha confirmed.

“I want a _man_ ,” she confessed, “handsome, fit…someone whose sweet and warm and has beautiful eyes. Who looks beautiful in a suit but isn’t so full of himself that he wouldn’t be caught dead in sweats. Someone who doesn’t shave every goddamn day or get his chest waxed.”

Natasha chuckled.

“Your ex-fiancé’s preference?”

Grace nodded.

“If you had someone like that…someone who could make me feel safe but also give me butterflies,” she sighed, “someone who is at least good at faking that they care…who can help me…help me breathe again…”

She didn’t like how desperate and touch-starved she sounded, but it was the truth, and she figured this wasn’t going to work if she wasn’t honest.

“Can I confess something?”

Grace looked to her.

“I do know of someone like that,” Natasha said, “and its who I thought would work for you before we had this meeting.”

Relief hit her hard, square in the chest, with enough force to shake her. Grace wiped away more errant tears.

“His name is James,” she continued, “and he is available.”

“Available?”

“The gentlemen that tend to high ranking ladies such as yourself typically only entertain one at a time,” Natasha explained, “not only does it ensure your enjoyment, it helps minimize the risk of awkward encounters, as many of our clients enjoy taking their date out on the town, on vacations…”

It made sense. It would be incredibly awkward if she went out with this ‘James’ and met one of the other ladies he was spending time with.

The idea of it made her nauseous.

“Besides, by the sounds of it you will likely be requiring him more regularly, yes? Multiple times a week?”

“I’ve never done this before, but yes, probably, if I’m comfortable with him…”

He was supposed to help her, right? Seeing him more than once a week would probably help that happen sooner. Besides, she was so desperate for what she’d described – someone sweet, kind, and comfortable, who’d touch her and hold her…

“You will be,” Natasha said confidently, interrupting her train of thought, “the next steps, if you want to pursue this, would entail me bringing your details to James and assisting in arranging a date; as well as finalizing pricing. Should the date go well, James will give you his phone number and you’ll arrange future dates with him directly.”

Seemed straight forward enough, Grace thought.

“And payment?” she asked.

Natasha nodded.

“Payment for our introduction is due prior to your first meeting with him. I will send you the particulars. Future payments for his time can be directed there, as well as any monetary tips you might want to give him.”

“SHII takes a portion?”

“A small one yes, for arranging the match. I can assure you the vast majority of what you pay goes into his pocket.”

_Seems fair…_

“So…if I want you to arrange a date with James for me?”

“Simply say the word,” Natasha sipped her drink.

It was ridiculous. Desperate and sad. None of what Natasha had said changed any of that.

But Grace wasn’t sure what her alternative was – return to her house and continue on as she had? Nothing would change. If anything, things would get worse. She honestly didn’t think she could endure it.

If this was it, her chance, she figured she had to take that leap.

“Yes…arrange it.”

* * *

**Brooklyn, NY**

Bucky was woken by frantic, light rapping at his door.

As he rolled over, groaning in frustration, he heard Steve talking to a woman in the hallway.

Was that…Natasha?

He slipped out of bed, quickly grabbing a pair of sweatpants from his floor and pulling them on before opening the door.

He was met by Natasha’s beaming smile.

“Nat? What time is it?” squinting, he tried to make out the time on his alarm clock.

“Late, doesn’t matter,” she grabbed his hand and tried to pull him into the living room, “I have details!”

“One second,” he slipped free of her to snag his sweater from atop his dresser.

Natasha was his friend, he trusted her, but there was no need for her or Steve to have to see his bare arm.

Tugging the sweater over his head, he followed her as he slipped his arms through each sleeve, still half-asleep.

Steve was in the kitchen, yawning as he made a pot of coffee.

“What’s with the wake-up call, Natasha?” Steve asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“Oh, just wonderful new for Bucky,” she sat on their couch, patting the spot beside her to signal him to join her as she dug through her bag, “your mystery lady wants to meet you!”

Bucky looked at her in disbelief, wide-eyed and certain he had to have heard her wrong.

“The millionaire?” Steve asked as he took a seat in the chair across from them, clutching his beloved coffee.

“You tell him everything, don’t you?” Nat asked Bucky, “listen, with this one absolutely nothing can leave this room. Nothing.”

She shot Steve a stern glare.

“I’d never jeopardize this for him, Natasha. You have my word.”

Natasha knew that of course, but it had to be said.

“Good,” she pulled a tablet from her bag, “because this is some of my best work – you’re welcome.”

She handed Bucky the tablet, having pulled up the document she wanted him to see.

Looking at it…it knocked the air from his chest.

Bucky didn’t know what to say.

“Nat…these numbers,” he stammered.

They were more than what he typically charged.

Considerably more.

She shrugged, “I bumped them up a bit to match what someone of her caliber would expect, not that she’s done this before.”

He gawked at her, still in disbelief.

“What? She agreed without batting an eye, Buck, she can afford it.”

“That good, Bucky?” Steve asked.

He managed a nod.

“More then I’d have the balls to ask for,” he glanced up from the tablet to Nat, “Nat, I don’t command this kind of cash.”

Women told him often enough how gorgeous he was. He worked hard in the gym, one of the few places he didn’t stress about everything, and he took care of himself. He figured chances were good she’d be attracted to him. But he grew up in a cramped Brooklyn apartment, went to a shitty school and got into countless fights to back up a stupid best friend.

He didn’t know how to talk to people with trust funds and sports cars. In a pinch, he’d been able to fake it in the past, but he knew most high rollers wanted more than just a night.

They were an investment, and he wasn’t sure he could keep it up long term.

“You’re the perfect fit for what she needs.”

“So, you didn’t tell her I’m a broke thirty-something who lives with his best friend in a shit apartment in Brooklyn?”

“Hey!” Steve spat, offended.

Bucky waved him down, “Sorry, man, it’s just…I’m not at this girl’s level. Tell me she knows, Nat.”

Nat shrugged, “It didn’t come up.”

“Natasha, I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

“You’re not,” she snagged the tablet from him, “you’re the right man for the job, trust me.”

Bucky sighed heavily and rubbed his face.

“Who is she?” he mumbled into his hands.

“Grace Kinsley,” Nat swiped through her tablet, “she’s –

“Kinsley,” Steve interjected, “as in the Kinsley from ‘Aldridge & Kinsley’? The publishing company?”

Natasha nodded, “The very same.”

“Nat –

“She’s twenty-four,” Nat continued, cutting Bucky off, “and in the last year, her father and brother died, and her fiancé left her.”

Steve cursed under his breath.

“Kid’s had a rough go.”

“She is a kid, Steve.”

“She wanted someone older,” Nat explained, “she’s a sweet girl, Bucky. Really. And I think you’re going to be perfect for her.”

Bucky snorted.

“Hey,” she squeezed his hand, “she might have more money then she’d ever know what to do with, but she asked me for someone sweet that she could feel comfortable and safe with.”

That surprised him.

“W-What?”

He was used to getting jumped by the women he saw the second he stepped into their house. There was nothing ‘sweet’ about what he was accustomed to.

‘Sweet’ was something for girlfriends, and he hadn’t had a relationship in a long time.

And this was a business relationship…a fucked up one, but one, nonetheless. How did he bring ‘sweet’ into it?

“Nat –

“She wants to pay you thousands of dollars to cuddle with her on her couch, hold her hand, and be there so she can spoil you with fancy nights out and gifts,” she looked him dead in the eye, “and…you’re complaining.”

“I’m…I’m not complaining,” he defended, “I’m confused.”

“About what?”

“Why she’d pay for all that with someone like me? Why she’d go through all of this just to cuddle –

“She’s lonely,” Natasha said, “and sad and in a rut, Buck. She fell into a depression after everything went to hell and her friends abandoned her. She just needs some help.”

“I’m not a therapist.”

Steve leaned forward in his seat and looked to his friend.

“Buck –

“I’m not saying no, man,” he clarified, “I’m just…not sure how I’m gonna do this and have her not turn me away and…fuck, I need the cash…”

“You and I are going shopping in the morning,” Nat said, tucking her tablet away, “we’ll get you sorted with a few good suits, get you in to the barber –

Bucky groaned and she swatted him.

“Just to tidy up the mess,” she waved her hand around his head, “not shave ya down. Grace said something about running her fingers through your hair…I’d hate to disappoint a client.”

Bucky cleared his throat and walked her to the door.

“Sleep tight, Buck. I’ll be here bright and early to take you out. By then I should have the details on your date with her sorted.”

“Nat, I can’t –

“It’s on me,” she pressed, “consider it an investment in your success.”

He knew there was no point in arguing with her. She always came out on top.

“I…thank you.”

She smiled and squeezed his arm.

“Told you…I’ve got you.”

Bucky sighed and walked back into the living room.

“This is insane,” he mumbled, slumping back down on the couch, “how the fuck am I gonna pull this off, Steve?”

His focus was on his phone and, frustrated, Bucky lobbed a pillow at him.

“Hey!”

“I’m talking to you, man,” Bucky grumbled.

“I Googled your new girl,” Steve explained, “and judging by this picture, I think you’ll have some motivation.”

Curious, Bucky rose and stepped around the chair to look at Steve’s phone over his shoulder.

He’d found an article dated a year and a half ago detailing someone named Max Elliot. The attached picture was of the man walking next to a stunning blonde.

**“Max Elliot Steps Out on the Town with Fiancé, publishing heiress Grace Kinsley.”**

“That’s her?”

Whatever Bucky had pictured in his mind was blown out of the water by the woman in the picture. She was short but stood tall in designer heels and a tight cocktail dress that hugged her curves. Her wavy hair was draped over her shoulder and she wore a diamond necklace and earrings.

The guy next to her looked like he had gone his entire life without working a single day. And Bucky figured he had to be an idiot, because he wasn’t even holding her hand.

“Punk looks like he has a spray-on tan,” Steve said with a laugh.

He really did look like he had one, Bucky thought. But still, a guy like him made sense standing next to a woman like that.

Would he, if Grace wanted to take him out?

Not likely, unless Natasha could work a miracle.

“Why the hell does a girl like that feel like she needs an escort?” Bucky mumbled; gaze fixed on the picture.

Steve looked back at him.

“He might be wearing the designer suit, but he’s also the asshole who walked out on her when her family died. Maybe Nat’s right? Maybe slumming it with you will do her some good.”

Bucky punched him hard in the shoulder, bid him goodnight, and headed back to his room.

He hoped to get a few more hours of sleep, but his nerves kept him up.

Instead, he stripped off his sweater and sweatpants and flopped on his bed. He grabbed his phone from his bedside table and Googled her name.

_Fuck…she has a Wikipedia page…_

It was a small entry, but still…

**‘Grace Kinsley, born May 14 th, 1995, is the youngest child of the co-founder of ‘Aldridge & Kinsley’ a successful New York publishing firm. Upon the death of her father, Timothy Kinsley, and her brother, Nathan Kinsley, she inherited the entirety of her father’s vast fortune. **

**Upon the death of her father, Kinsley dropped out of NYU and her engagement to Maxwell Elliot (son of actor Bryce Elliot) was called off.**

**Ms. Kinsley has largely disappeared from the public eye this last year, and the company is run in large part by her aunt, Jeanine Aldridge; with whom her father founded the company.’**

At a glance, it was easy to write her off as just another spoiled brat, and hell, maybe she really was. But going through the death of her father and brother, and having her fiancé and friends leave her…

That was a hell of a lot for anyone to deal with.

Bucky clicked on ‘Images’, hoping to find a picture of her without her ex.

The first was of her with whom he suspected to be her father and brother. She was smiling bright, her arms around both men.

They all looked happy.

The next was just of her, at the Met Gala a few years ago. Her dress was ridiculous, but he liked her hair…

_Looks soft…_

And he liked how dark her brown eyes were.

_She’s really cute…_

And her legs…

_Wow…_

At the very least, fucking her wouldn’t involve tapping into his imagination quite so much or closing his eyes.

He supposed that was something…

* * *

The next morning, Natasha pulled up outside his apartment in her Corvette.

He got in and the second he closed his door, she peeled out.

“Let me buckle up, Nat,” he grumbled.

“Nervous with me behind the wheel?” she asked, smirking.

“Can you blame me?”

She laughed, grabbing a slip of paper from where she had tucked it in the center console and handing it to him.

“Your date has been confirmed,” she explained as he scanned the slip, “tomorrow night, 8pm, at ‘Alere’. Have you heard of the place?”

Bucky shook his head.

“They’re known for their wine selection and seafood dishes. Usually it takes over eight weeks to secure a reservation, but Grace knows the owner.”

_Of course…_

“We’ll need to get you a couple good suits, dress shoes, maybe some jeans and sweaters…”

“Nat, I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay this back,” he said quietly, “and if this falls through –

“It won’t.”

“Still…”

“It’ll be hard to get the suits altered before tomorrow night,” she continued, rambling aloud as she put the pieces together, “but money should grease the wheel…”

“How…how should I handle this date? What do I need to establish with her, like, rule wise? What –

“Bucky, breathe,” Nat instructed, an amused smirk on her lips, “one question at a time.”

He knew he was rambling, but so much was riding on this going well.

The last date he went on was before his final tour and that felt like a lifetime ago.

“O-Okay.”

“Flirt; make her laugh. Have a conversation, get to know her a bit but keep it professional. You need to find out what she wants from you. From my meeting with her, I’d say she wants the boyfriend experience.”

“Not something any of the women I’ve seen so far want…”

“It’s more emotional contact. Cuddling, romance, kissing –

“Don’t think I’ve kissed any of the women you’ve sent my way yet,” he mumbled, more to himself then her.

But Natasha heard.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I…fuck, I wish you didn’t need this. You deserve –

“It’s fine,” he stressed, “what else?”

Natasha sighed.

“She’d want to hold hands, and if she decides she wants sex it would definitely be with foreplay.”

If?

Bucky had never dealt with ‘if’, didn’t think it existed in his line of work.

“She doesn’t want sex?”

“Her confidence is in the gutter, Buck, and the last year has been rough on her. She’s gorgeous but from the pictures I’ve seen of her from two years ago, she has gained some weight. When I asked her, point blank if sex was something she needed, she said she was scared and nervous. I think it’s going to take some time, which is why if this goes through, she will be your sole client. She’s a multimillionaire, Bucky, she gets all your focus.”

Bucky was okay with that, even if sex never happened. Though, he did find it ironic the first truly attractive woman to hire him didn’t want to go straight to her bed.

At least he could drop Sandy and still earn more than enough money…

_You just have to hang out with her, cuddle on the couch…hold hands when we walk together…maybe kiss her cheek or forehead…_

As he told himself that, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to hold on to the last shreds of self respect he had left to his name.

“The challenge is not getting too close, right?” he asked her, “give her the emotional connection she needs without leading her on?”

“Exactly.”

“So, no pressure?”

“None whatsoever.”

* * *

They spent the entire day on Fifth Avenue, much to Bucky’s dismay. He stuck out like a sore thumb and he had to stay close to Natasha to make sure security didn’t drag him out.

He knew he looked uncomfortable but Natasha reminding him that this was the world Grace fit into seamlessly drove home the fact that he had to get comfortable with it.

And for Rebecca, he would try his best.

Still, he was pleasantly surprised to find he liked Hugo Boss, and they left the store with a few pairs of jeans, a bomber jacket, a peacoat, sweaters, and shoes. The trip to the barber wasn’t as awful as he expected either; it was the tidying Natasha promised, and far better than he could manage on his own.

They were able to find two suits for him as well, and Natasha was right, cash made the alterations happen faster.

“I’ll pick up your suits in the morning and drop them by your apartment. Take an Uber to the restaurant and for the love of –

“I’ll get there early,” he finished, having heard the lecture a dozen times during their day together, “better I wait then her. I let the concierge know I’m there for the Kinsley reservation and don’t order anything until she arrives. I let her pay for the meal and give her my number before we go our separate ways.”

“And?” Natasha prompted.

“Flirt but be professional, figure out what she wants and expects of me, reassure her and…and…”

_Fuck…what else did she say?_

“Smile!” Natasha snapped, reaching over as she drove to lightly smack him, “you can be intimidating when you scowl like that!”

“I don’t scowl,” Bucky bit back, “this is just my face!”

“Bullshit, you scowl, Barnes.”

“You know what, Romanoff –

“Bucky, I’m telling you, smile and she’ll melt. And if she seems comfortable enough, maybe at the end of the night if all goes well, give her a hug. She’ll love the cologne we got you, just –

“Don’t use the whole bottle, I know.”

He looked at her and smiled.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

The low tone of his voice and the sincerity in it startled her and she risked a few quick glances his way as they sat at the intersection.

Realizing he was being genuine and not the sarcastic shit she knew he could be, she smiled.

“You’re very welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm so excited for the next chapter - Grace and Bucky's date! :)


	4. Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace and Bucky prepare for their date and finally meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for each any every view, kudo, and comment! I hope this chapter lives up to what you were all hoping for!

**Manhattan, NY**

For the first time in months, Grace woke up before noon.

She rolled out of bed, a tight bundle of nerves and excitement, and hurried to the bathroom. Brushing out the tangles from her hair, she turned the water on to fill the tub as she stripped out of her leggings and shirt.

Natasha had sent over James’ documents the night before and she had read through them numerous times. A signed confidentiality and non-disclosure agreement, criminal record check, and his detailed STI and blood work screening – everything clear and without blemish.

As the tub filled, she hurried around the room to gather up her supplies. Her oatmeal and aloe bath salts, shave gel, a fresh razor, the fancy shampoo and conditioner she’d held on to but not used for months…

If she was really going to do this, she was going to give it her all.

She added the salts, allowing it a moment to bubble before turning off the water and removing the last bits of her clothing. When her sports bra and panties had joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, she slipped into the tub.

She’d intended to get right down to shaving and doing her hair, but the second her tense body slipped into the warm water, she let out a long sigh and sunk into it.

_Why haven’t I done this before?_

But even as the question crossed her mind, she knew the answer.

Because every action up until now took monumental strength to execute. Because some days the bed was too comfortable to leave, the outside world to overwhelming to venture into.

But today, more than any other day, she needed to steel her resolve and push through it.

She was bound and determined for tonight to be a success and for James to see her as she wanted to be seen – strong, level-headed, and maybe…possibly…if she played her cards right…maybe even beautiful.

She couldn’t remember the last time she would have pinned that word on herself.

Setting to task, Grace took her time shaving her legs and her underarms, using her shampoo and conditioner and thoroughly rinsing her hair. By the time she finally emerged from the tub, an hour had passed but she felt more relaxed then she had in a very long time.

_Yup, definitely using the tub more…_

She wrapped a towel around herself, drying her hair with a smaller one, before stepping out into her bedroom. She pulled out the dresses she had bought with Molly and hung them up around the room, eyeing them all, uncertain which was ‘the one’.

Unsure, she eyed the teal Givenchy dress she’d liked in the store but wondered if it was too simple.

James had surely entertained dozens of women from high society. He had to have certain expectations. If she wore a less expensive dress would he know and judge her? If it was more expensive would he think she was shallow? If she was nervous or fumbled over her words would be write her off as an airhead?

Frowning, she hopped up on her bed and scrutinized each option.

Somehow, she found a flaw in each and grumbled, frustrated and disheartened.

_You’ve got to wear something…going naked isn’t an option…_

She stood, approaching the dress Molly hadn’t been crazy about but she had loved. It wasn’t a high-end designer name brand, but it was very well made, and she liked the fabric. It was a beautiful deep, ruby red off the shoulder evening dress that hugged her body and revealed just a hint of cleavage. The skirt length was flirty without leaving her feeling too exposed, hitting her at the knees.

Tasteful, she decided.

The tightness of it made her a little self-conscious, but if she wore shapewear and…and maybe the right pair of heels with some simple, sparkling jewelry…

She smiled, loving the sexy and sophisticated image she painted in her mind.

But as she stepped into her closet to peruse her shoe options, it hit her just how long it had been since she was last on a date. It had been well over a year ago, before her father’s health deteriorated to the point where he had to be hospitalized and before Nate died.

But dates with Max had been comfortable for a long time and even in the beginning, they’d been friends for a few years. There was familiarity.

This was new and terrifying, even if she didn’t take the fact that she was meeting an escort she’d hired into consideration.

Her anxiety kept her from dating before she started things with Max and her high school sweetheart, the only other man she had been with, had been introduced to her by friends. Somehow, back then, it had just felt easier.

And now, here she was, twenty-four years old and she’d only had sex with two men.

_Oh, god…_

What if James asked about her previous partners? What if she was such a bumbling mess that it was painfully obvious? What if…what if they tried to have sex and she couldn’t cum? Or she couldn’t make him feel good? Or –

_Oh, my god! Why didn’t I think of this sooner?_

He was almost certainly gorgeous and had probably been with dozens of stunning, sexy, confident women…

What the hell was she going to do?

Overwhelmed, she dropped the heels she was holding and hurried into the bathroom with tears in her eyes. She opened the vanity drawer with shaky hands and reached for her razor blade.

* * *

**Brooklyn, NY**

Bucky stood in his room, freshly showered with only a towel around his waist; the suits Natasha had dropped off draped across his bed.

He knew it was stupid. They were both great suits and Natasha had said he looked handsome it both. Yet he was standing there, debating which one to wear like it really mattered.

Did it? A woman like Grace would probably know the designer of each by look alone…

Deciding he was overthinking it; he went with his gut and chose the navy-blue suit Natasha told him to wear with a black dress shirt.

He was partially dressed and in the process of tucking the dress shirt into his trousers when there was a knock at his door.

“Yeah?”

“You decent?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.”

Steve opened the door, leaning against the frame as he looked at him.

“Nervous?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged, “There’s a lot riding on this…”

“Probably best not to think of that,” Steve suggested, “just think of it as a date.”

“A date with a millionaire,” he scoffed, “my bad, a multimillionaire.”

“She’s human, Buck. And if Nat’s right, she’s probably going to be just as nervous as you are.”

“Not sure if that’s a comfort,” he grumbled, gaze downcast as he buttoned his cuffs.

“Come on, man; you’ve got this.”

Bucky appreciated his optimism, he really did, but this wasn’t just a blind date.

This was a job interview disguised as a date.

With the highest stakes he could imagine.

If this didn’t go well…well, he had no idea how long he’d have to wait before an opportunity like this came his way again.

And Rebecca couldn’t afford that kind of wait. Her medical care needed to continue, and Grace Kinsley was the key to that.

“Just…afraid for what happens if this goes to hell,” he admitted in a low mumble, unable to look at Steve as he spoke, “don’t really have a back up plan.”

Steve sighed.

“I know man.”

Bucky struggled with the tie for a moment before tossing it on the bed with a huff.

“You know…she wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself for her,” Steve began, voice quiet, heavy, “Rebecca –

“What she doesn’t know ain’t gonna hurt her,” Bucky countered sharply.

He unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, hating how restricting it was and quickly slipped on the jacket.

“Presentable?” he asked, standing back so Steve could get a good look at him.

Steve gave a short chuckle, stepping into the room and standing before him.

He unbuttoned one more button of Bucky’s dress shirt.

“If you’re going to go without a tie, you should have two unbuttoned,” he explained, “just looks like you were rushing and missed one otherwise.”

Bucky nodded and nervously smoothed out his jacket.

“Good enough to be seen with a millionaire heiress?” he asked, looking down at himself and unsure what to think.

“Multimillionaire,” Steve correct with a smirk.

He saw the color fade from Bucky’s face and clasped his shoulder.

“Run a comb through your hair and you’ll knock her dead.”

* * *

**‘Alere’, Manhattan, NY**

Grace nervously tapped her fingers against the Swarovski crystals covering her Alexander McQueen clutch.

She’d gone with the off the shoulder evening dress and had opted to leave her hair down and brushed over her shoulder. Her makeup was elegant but minimal, and she’d chosen to wear simple diamond studded earrings. To boost her confidence, she wore her Christian Louboutin pumps.

But now that she was outside the restaurant, she was doubting everything.

Her dress, hair, makeup, jewelry…everything was the wrong choice.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she watched the other patrons leisurely file into the restaurant. 

“Did you want me to take another drive around the block, Ms.?” Sam asked from the driver’s seat.

She did, but they’d already done that twice and it was almost 8pm.

Being late wouldn’t help her nerves.

“N-No, Sam, thank you” she stammered quietly, “I should go inside…”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about,” Sam encouraged, “if this guy is everything your friend said he was, I think you’re in for a great night.”

Grace smiled at him, meeting his gaze in the rear-view mirror.

She’d told him on the second time around the block that she was at the restaurant for a blind date and was nervous it wouldn’t go well.

“I’m sure you’re right, thank you, Sam,” she reached into her clutch to grab a bit of the cash she had on her, “here, treat yourself to a good meal while I’m busy. I’ll message you when I’m done.”

Sam gave her a startled look, tentatively taking the offered bills and realizing she’d given him way more than a decent meal would require.

“Are you sure? This is -

“I’m positive. Wish me luck!”

He did as she stepped out, slowly pulling away and merging into traffic. Grace watched him as he left, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders and contemplating running after him.

It was her desire not to break her ankle that kept her from doing just that.

Turning her focus to the restaurant, she took a deep breath and realized just how tight her chest was. Her deep breath became wheezy and weak, as though she were sucking air through a straw.

Rooted in place, she pulled her phone from her clutch as she started to shake.

**G: Molly, I can’t do this.**

The wait for a response felt like it took an eternity.

**M: You can! You’ve got this, hun! Go in there and wow him!**

**G: How? Frig, Mol, this was such a bad idea…**

**M: He’s the one that has to impress you, hun. He’s interviewing for the most coveted position in New York – your fuck buddy!**

Grace’s heart raced and she was unsure if she was going to be sick or pass out.

**G: You’re not helping.**

**M: Sorry! Listen, deep breaths, he really is the one who has to impress you, Gracie. Just get your hot ass in there and smile!**

_Alright…okay…I can do this…just smile…_

**G: Okay…okay…I can do this…**

**M: You can! You’re gorgeous, sweet, and so good, hun. You deserve to have an equally gorgeous guy lavish attention on you! Relax, smile, try to have some fun, and let me know the second you get home how it went!**

Grace breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth until the tightness in her chest lessened. She knew deep down Molly was right.

_Fuck, she always is!_

And somehow thinking of it as an interview helped ease some of her worry.

Holding tight to that thought, she slowly started towards the restaurant.

_I can do this…I’ve got this…I’m interviewing him; he has to impress me…_

The concierge greeted her with a smile as she neared.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

_I’ve got this…._

“Hello, my name is Grace Kinsley. I have a reservation for two in your garden view room for eight.”

“Ah, of course, ma’am, if you’ll follow me.”

Grace did, thankful the man was in no rush as they entered the main dining space and made for the private rooms at the back of the hall.

_I can do this…_

She’d never dined in one of their private rooms before but had seen them in passing. They were large enough for a single table each and backed onto a small courtyard garden. What had sold it for her though was that each room had large French doors to afford privacy to whomever dined inside.

The last thing she needed was someone overhearing what was bound to be a tense, awkward, and embarrassing conversation.

“Has…my date already arrived?” she asked quietly.

Part of her – a large part – hoped he hadn’t. It would give her some more time to compose herself, even out her breathing and give herself one more pep talk. The other part – smaller than the first but just as strong – hoped he just wouldn’t show.

It’d be embarrassing to admit to Molly, but maybe it was for the best…

“Yes, ma’am,” the concierge answered, “he arrived about fifteen minutes ago.”

_Fuck._

“Oh,” she swallowed hard, “good.”

She adjusted her shawl, praying inwardly that a hole would open in the floor to swallow her whole.

_Come on hole, come on…_

But the floor didn’t open, and the concierge was leading her straight to a private room tucked in the corner. She could tell someone was sitting at the table inside.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck…_

She needed to turn and run. If she kicked off her heels and carried them, she could get further before the concierge realized she’d made a break for it.

_Maybe if I can make it around the block, I can call Sam and he can get to me before –_

The concierge smiled back at her and opened the French doors, standing back to allow her to enter. At the sound of the doors opening, the man at the table stood; turning to face her.

He gave a small smile as they made eye contact and Grace’s chest tightened for an entirely different reason.

_Holy fuck…_

Grace was positive she had never seen a more attractive man in her entire life.

The dark blue suit he wore had been expertly tailored and looked stylish against his dark dress shirt. His long dark hair was slicked back but didn’t look laden with product. In fact, it looked downright soft.

“H-Hi,” she managed in a tight, nervous whisper.

His smirk grew; soft and sincere but striking.

The concierge cleared his throat slightly and the fog momentarily lifted as she looked to his outstretched had and realized he had offered to take her shawl.

Gaze nervously flittering from her date, she looked down as she slipped it off and handed it to the concierge with a quiet thanks.

As the concierge left, promising that their waiter would be by to take their drink orders shortly, Grace looked back to _him_.

He really had no business being so handsome, she decided.

From the light stubble along his sharp jawline and the slightest dimple in his chin, to the mesmerizing hue of his blue eyes…

Fidgeting with her clutch, she took a small step closer to him and forced herself not to look down.

He looked like he smelled good…was such a thing possible?

“Ms. Kinsley,” his voice cut the nervous energy in the room, “it’s good to meet you.”

He approached her, gently taking her free hand and leaning in to press a light kiss to her cheek in greeting.

_Oh my god…_

He did smell good.

Like mint and teakwood with a hint of something sweet…vanilla, maybe?

And the slight scratch of his stubble against her cheek…

“Grace,” she breathed as he pulled back and she could breathe, “you can call me Grace.”

“Grace,” he said her voice in a low whisper, “I’m James. My friends call me Bucky though, you can too, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Bucky?”

He gave a small snort of amusement that surprised her.

“Middle name’s Buchanan,” he explained, “it’s a childhood nickname that kinda stuck.”

Grace smiled.

He had the tiniest hint of a Brooklyn accent and she decided she liked it. A lot. It wasn’t the prim, proper, and pretentious tone most she met took.

He didn’t seem to be trying to hide it or be something else and it was refreshing and incredibly charming.

Coupled with the classy but relaxed way he had dressed; it was a potent combination.

“Bucky,” she spoke his name, liking how his nickname felt on her lips, “it’s good to meet you too.”

His eyes seemed to light up at her use of his nickname and he let go over her hand to pull her seat out for her.

“Such a gentleman,” she said teasingly, unsure where her boldness to do so came from.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said with a laugh, taking his seat across from her, “you’ve been in my sights a full two minutes and I haven’t told you how beautiful you are.”

Grace blushed, heart racing wildly, as she sat her clutch down and toyed with its clasp.

She couldn’t look at him but hoped she wasn’t being too obvious about it.

“I…thank you,” she managed, “and you’re forgiven for the slip up.”

The waiter stepped into the private room, greeting them both politely and making his suggestions on which wines to begin with.

When they’d both made their requests and the waiter left, a strange silence fell on the small room and Grace immediately felt exposed; like she was one open, exposed nerve. The energy bounced around inside of her, intensifying her urge to run.

“I’m sorry,” she began, voice low and trembling, “I…I don’t know where we’re supposed to start.”

She lightly touched her cheek and upon feeling just how warm her blush was, couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“Well,” he said with a chuckle, “I think after we get our drinks, we’re supposed to look at their menu…”

Grace looked up and caught the mischievous smirk he was giving her.

She gave a short laugh and kicked herself inwardly when that was the only sound she could bring herself to make. Gaze fixed on her clutch, she chewed at her lip.

_Words, Grace, find your words!_

“Listen, doll.”

The pet name surprised her, and she looked to him in confusion.

“Yes?”

The look he was giving her was soft, understanding.

It was strangely comforting, if not unexpected, but she supposed she was likely not the first he had met with to have the jitters.

“It’s okay. I don’t bite,” Bucky soothed, mischievous grin gone, “we talk, get to know each other a bit, figure out what you need and if I’m able to meet those needs.”

He was right, Grace knew he was.

So, she forced her tight, tense body to relax enough to allow her a deep breath.

“You make it sound so easy…”

She was interrupted by the waiter returning with their drinks. She accepted her white wine with a smile and asked for a moment longer with the menus, which had been sitting untouched at their table.

When they were alone again, Grace took a small sip of her wine as she thought on what to ask him.

Were there lines she couldn’t cross, questions that weren’t appropriate to ask? Given what he did for a living, it made sense to her that he would want to maintain some distance…

“Do you always bite your lip when you overthink something?” Bucky asked with a smirk as he reached for his wine.

Grace laughed.

“Um, yes, I think I do,” she admitted, “I’m sorry, I’ve just…never done this before and I don’t know if there are things I shouldn’t ask you. I imagine you want to maintain some distance…”

Bucky shrugged.

“Can’t think of anything you could ask that I wouldn’t answer, doll.”

“Okay…can…can you tell me a bit about yourself?”

He nodded, thinking a moment before answering.

“I’m thirty-seven, from Brooklyn. I’ve got three sisters, all younger, and I spent ten years in the military.”

Whatever she had been expecting, a career in the military wasn’t it.

“How did you end up…you know.”

“Working as an escort?” he said with a smirk, “I wasn’t sure what to do with myself when I was discharged. I’d known Natasha for years, she sold me on it.”

“And you like it? Your job?”

She caught glimpse of something shift in his eyes and a slight tension in his shoulders. But when she blinked, it was gone, so she wrote it off as her imaginings.

“It has its perks,” he answered, “I meet interesting people, have more freedom then a typical nine-to-five job offers…”

Get to have sex with an endless stream of gorgeous women, Grace finished inwardly for him.

The waiter returned, and she ordered her usual. Bucky asked for the same, though she got the sense it was just to speed up the waiter’s retreat.

When the doors closed behind him, Bucky spoke.

“What about you, doll?”

She gave a meek shrug, unsure what there was to say.

Everything that had been a part of her identity had disappeared from her in the last year. She had no family, save her aunt and Molly, and no job or real hobbies.

It had all been buried with her father and brother.

“There’s not really much of interest about me,” she admitted finally, hating how evasive it was but unsure what else to offer him.

“I somehow doubt that,” he said, smiling as he watched her with seemingly unwavering interest.

Grace sighed.

Here it was, the moment she revealed just how sad and pathetic she truly was.

“I’m twenty-four. I have a brother…he passed away,” her voice caught in her throat, “my father raised us on his own…”

Her restless gaze met his and for some reason she couldn’t look away as she continued.

“My father…he’s passed as well.”

“’m sorry to hear that, doll,” he said softly, “can…can I ask you something?”

Grace blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall and nodded, missing the slight trepidation in his voice.

“Does their loss have something to do with why I’m here, Grace?” he asked, “because I just can’t get my head around why a young, beautiful woman like you needs a guy like me.”

His question was enough to nudge a few errant tears past her lashes and she quickly brushed them from her cheeks as they trailed down.

“My cousin asked me to try this,” she began, “I’ve not been myself this last year and she was worried about me.”

“Why this last year?”

“My dad died of cancer,” she said, her voice shaky, “it wasn’t a surprise, I mean, the form of brain cancer he had…they called it ‘the Terminator’. We were lucky he lasted as long as he did after he was diagnosed. My brother…he died about a month before my dad. He was…leaving campus and, um, he was hit by a drunk driver.”

Grace’s voice trailed off and she took a quick sip of her wine in the hopes of calming her quivering bottom lip.

This couldn’t be appealing to him in the least. Natasha had told her to be honest, Molly too, but neither could have meant this…

“God, doll,” Bucky breathed, tone low and shaken, “’m so sorry…”

She bit her lip and shrugged.

“Between losing them and…and Max leaving me…”

“Max?”

“He was my fiancé,” she explained, “he, um, he called things off in a voicemail he left me about a week after my dad’s funeral.”

“W-What?” Bucky stammered, “He called things off by voicemail?”

Grace nodded.

Bucky cursed under his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“What a punk…”

Grace chuckled, “Yeah…I can really pick ‘em…”

“Grace, doll, I-I didn’t mean –

“It’s okay,” she assured him, “really. I’m sorry to unload all of this on you…”

“Hey, don’t be.”

“Still…it’s a lot to throw at a person,” she mumbled, feeling more exposed than ever.

He surprised her by reaching across the small table and grabbing her hand. As his thumb rubbed the back of her hand, she watched him, stunned that the small touch was enough to suck the tension from her shoulders.

“Hey, I can take it,” he assured her.

The French doors opened, and the waiter entered with their meals. Grace looked away to hide her tears from the man, immediately missing the warmth of Bucky’s hand as he pulled back to give the waiter room to place the plates before them.

When the waiter left, Bucky spoke.

“Do you have any family beyond your cousin?”

“Just her mother, my aunt Jeanine. She’s a busy woman though, I see Molly more regularly.”

“Your friends must have helped you a lot then, with all you’ve been through.”

“Um, no,” she admitted, “they left.”

“Left?”

She nodded, taking a bite of her pasta.

“What do you mean, left?” he pressed.

“After losing my dad and brother,” she began, “and then everything with Max…it was hard to be my friend. I…broke down, I guess. I didn’t want to go out or talk, my anxiety got worse…eventually they stopped trying to get me out. Then they stopped texting me altogether. Molly was the only one whose stuck it out.”

There was a silence between them, and Grace turned her gaze back to her plate, unable to bear the startled, wide-eyed look he was giving her.

_Fuck, he must think I’m such a mess…_

“I…I dunno what to say, doll,” he admitted in a hushed tone.

_Yup, Grace Kinsley, certified mess._

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said, “it is what it is…”

“Must have been a lonely year…”

She nodded quickly, fresh tears stinging her eyes.

“It was,” she admitted, “is. Its hard to get out of bed sometimes, let alone leave the house…”

_Way to sell yourself, Grace…_

“Was it hard for you to get here tonight?” he asked.

She could only nod.

Bucky sighed.

“Thank you…for finding a way to get yourself here…”

She gave a small, tight smile; though tears still threatened to fall.

“Thank you for not making a break for the door.”

Bucky laughed, and she couldn’t help but think that was when he was most handsome – smiling, laughing. There was something about his eyes when he did that made something inside of her flutter.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” he teased, sipping his wine.

They ate in comfortable silence.

Silence that was occasionally interrupted by a contented hum from Bucky.

Grace smiled, realizing he must really be liking his dish.

He looked up, having noticed she had stopped eating, and caught the strange look she was giving him.

“What?”

She shook her head.

“Nothing.”

Bucky put down his fork, shooting her a mock look of indignation.

“Come on, what is it, doll?”

She took a savoring sip of her wine, licking her lips.

“You were humming as you were eating.”

“Was not,” he mumbled, reaching for his wine.

“You were,” she countered, “don’t worry, its cute.”

_Fuck, did I really just say that?_

“Stop,” he shook his head, “you’re gonna make me blush, doll…”

She realized that he was in fact blushing and felt her own cheeks flush.

She decided to blame it on the wine.

“Can I ask what it is you’re gonna need from me in this relationship?” he questioned.

Her blush intensified and she shrugged.

“What did Natasha tell you?”

“A bit,” he said, “but we’ve got to talk about this, doll. I need to know exactly what you need and where your boundaries are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I put my arm around you or touch the small of your back, am I gonna get slapped?”

Grace laughed and shook her head.

“I won’t slap you.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

With a smile, he continued.

“What else? What do you need to have?”

She hesitated, unsure how to answer him without making herself seem the fool, but decided she needed to just go for it.

He hadn’t tried to run away yet…

“I miss…the little things from my time with Max. Holding hands, cuddling on the couch, him touching my thigh or playing with my hair. He…he wasn’t big on any of that, so when it happened by accident, I loved it…”

“So, anything over clothes is good?”

She considered it for a moment. The idea of his hand atop her thigh or at the small of her back was very appealing. And if he wanted to play with her hair…

She thought she would really, really like that.

‘Over clothes’ would still include more intimate touches and she tried to imagine how she would feel if his hands strayed to her inner thighs or wandered upward to cup her breasts…

“Um, yes,” she managed with a nod, “I…might need time to get comfortable with, um, certain…spots, but…but I want to be. Does that make any sense?”

He nodded; his expression soft but knowing.

“Can…can I touch you?” she asked in a whisper.

Bucky smirked and she practically melted.

“Yeah, doll, you can,” he eyed her lips and she realized she was biting it again, “you’ve got free reign.”

Grace swallowed hard, her dress suddenly incredibly tight across her chest and stomach.

“Good…good to know.”

He gave an amused snort, his gaze not wavering from her.

“What about sex?” he asked.

Grace felt her breath catch in her throat.

“S-Sex?”

“Yeah…its sort of what most women want me for.”

_Can’t imagine why…_

Grace licked her lips, mouth suddenly incredibly dry.

“I’m…open to it,” she breathed, “I’m just…not at my best right now. I think…I’m gonna need time and –

“I didn’t mean to make you this uncomfortable, doll,” Bucky interjected, “or that I felt it was a given. We don’t do anything you’re not a hundred percent comfortable with. Its why we need to have this conversation though, okay?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry…fuck, I feel like such an idiot,” she sighed, “I’m sure most women you meet with aren’t this much of a mess. I mean…do you even want to be doing any of this if sex might take a while? Another woman –

“Don’t want another woman,” he said firmly, taking a small sip of his wine.

His gaze didn’t leave her.

“O-Oh.”

He lowered his glass.

“Sex isn’t always a given with the women I’ve entertained,” he continued, “sometimes the connection isn’t there, others I’m only with to make them look good in front of their friends at a party. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s not something I’m made to do.”

Grace considered what he said and felt a bit better. It helped reinforce the idea that she was paying for his time, not his body; and she was relieved to hear he had more choice then she expected in his job.

“So…it really is alright if it…maybe takes me a bit to –

His hand on hers silenced her.

“Grace, I’m here for you; to be what you need me to be. We do what you’re comfortable with and you always set the pace. But if you’re worried I wouldn’t be interested in having sex with you…”

_Hit the nail right on the head there, Bucky…_

Grace swallowed hard.

“Don’t be,” Bucky assured her, “you’re a beautiful young woman and, correct me if I’m wrong, but its been a while since you’ve felt that way, yes?”

She bit her lip as she nodded.

“I’d be happy to remind you,” he breathed, squeezing her hand, “when and if you decide you want more…all you’d gotta do is say the word, doll. But you’re never gonna get any pressure from me, I promise. The decision for _more_ comes from you.”

It felt sincere, honest. And despite her lingering nerves, there was more comfort then she expected to feel so soon.

_He’s good._

“I…thank you.”

They finished their meals in comfortable silence, Grace smiling to herself as he hummed.

She found herself feeling cautiously hopeful.

It looked like he really would be a good fit, that he could help her, and she felt a weight shift from her chest.

Grace tried to picture herself with him, cuddled up on the couch or walking together…her hand in his…

She liked the image she was able to conjure up.

The waiter returned to take their plates and Grace thanked the man, asking that the bill be brought to her.

“Was it worth it?” Bucky asked, “finding a way to make it here tonight?”

Grace chuckled.

“It was.”

“Still nervous?”

“Always,” she admitted, “I think I left the womb worrying. But this…feels like a good nervous…if that makes any sense.”

“It does.”

Grace couldn’t keep the grin from her lips.

“I’d ask if you enjoyed your meal, but you hummed right to the end so…”

“Good food brings it out of me, what can I say.”

“We could…do this again? Here or…maybe try another restaurant?”

He smiled, “That would be great.”

“And,” she managed, “if I just wanted to stay in…just watch tv and cuddle…”

“I’d love to join you,” he insisted, laughing lightly, “honestly, doll. I’m not high maintenance.”

“That’s refreshing and…well, perfect, really.”

“Good.”

The waiter returned and Grace opened her clutch to grab her card. She gave the man a generous tip, handing him back the machine with a quick thanks.

As the man took his leave, Grace became abundantly aware that the date was at an end and Bucky had yet to give her his number.

Natasha had said he would, if he thought he could help her, and that they would arrange future dates privately that way. Was it a bad sign that he hadn’t yet? Had he just been being polite as he eyed the exit?

Grace chewed her bottom lip as she tucked her card back inside her clutch and stood. She kept her focus on the clasp of her clutch, unable to bring herself to look at him even when she heard his chair slide back.

But when he stepped so close that his intoxicating scent and warmth became overwhelming, she couldn’t resist.

He eyed her curiously and she thought for an instant that perhaps he was just as nervous as she was.

“Think I could snag your sparkly wallet for a sec, doll?” he asked, nodding to her clutch.

Grace chuckled, “It’s a clutch.”

He rolled his eyes and her laugh became more sincere.

She tilted it towards him in offering, the corner of it touching his chest.

Bucky took it, opening the clasp with his thumb while he pulled something from his jacket pocket with his other hand.

He produced a simple business card that was blank save a handwritten phone number.

Biting his lip ever so slightly, he slipped the card into her clutch, closed it, and handed it back to her.

“Ball’s in your court, doll.”

Grace let out a shaky breath, excitement and not anxiety causing her to tremble.

_Fuck, he’s good._

“You said touch was okay?”

She nodded.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, bright blue eyes fixed on her lips.

Again, she could only nod.

But Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Gotta use your words, Grace,” he whispered.

Heart racing wildly, she nodded quickly but managed to find her voice.

“Y-Yes.”

He let out a little breath, licking his lips before closing the distance between them in a slow, light kiss that shook her.

_Holy fuck…_

Kisses she’d shared with Max hadn’t made her knees weak in a long time. They were rough and messy, all slick and tongue-heavy…

Bucky…Bucky was sweet…gentle…savoring…

Grace grasped his arm, leaning against him and letting out a small moan when she felt his hand at the small of her back. It was stabilizing, not demanding.

She felt him smile into their kiss and let out a shaky breath as they parted.

Looking up at him from under heavy eyelids, she licked her lips as she composed herself.

“Can…can I give you a ride home?” she asked sleepily, caught in a dream like haze from the touch of his lips.

Her hand still on his arm, she felt rather then saw him tense and hurried to amend her offer.

“My driver can take you home after he drops me off at my house, if that makes you more comfortable?”

She blinked away the last of the fog, looking at him with clear eyes and giving a contented sigh as he nodded, gaze still fixed on her lips.

“You’ve got to use your words, Bucky,” she muttered, blushing under the intensity of his gaze.

He laughed.

“Yeah, that works, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to let me know your thoughts! Can't wait to write the next chapter - Bucky and Grace have their first night in!


	5. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to make sense of Grace while he waits to hear from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos from the last few chapters! I'm so glad this story is being enjoyed!

Bucky took her arm, holding her close to him as they left the private room and made for the front desk. They parted just so she could fetch her shawl, and he adjusted it once it was around her shoulders, ensuring her neck was covered.

Grace called Sam when they stepped outside, shooting Bucky a grateful look when he stepped in front of her to shield her from the bulk of the crisp nighttime breeze.

Slipping her phone back into her clutch, she looked to him.

“Such a gentleman…”

“Can’t expect you to keep forgiving my slip-ups now, can I,” he nudged her playfully with his elbow, careful not to move and subject her to the full gust of the wind.

Sam pulled up a moment longer and Grace missed the wide-eyed look of shock on Bucky’s face at the sight of the Rolls Royce.

“Coming?” she asked when he remained rooted in place.

He nodded, hurrying after her to open the door for her.

She gave his arm a light squeeze in thanks as she sat down, turning to Sam as Bucky rounded the car.

“Sam, would you be so good as to drop Bucky off at his home once you’ve taken me home?”

Bucky got in, buckled up and took a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship of the vehicle.

“Of course, Ms.” Sam said with a nod, cautiously merging back into traffic.

Grace turned to Bucky and smiled, having caught him lightly running his fingers over the trim of the upholstery.

He saw her watching him from the corner of his eye and turned to her, somewhat embarrassed to have been caught ogling the car.

“Sorry, don’t think I’ve seen a car this amazing.”

Grace smiled, “It’s okay. It is amazing; belonged to my father.”

As a silence fell over the car, Bucky reached out to hold her hand.

She squeezed his hand, grateful for the touch, as she looked ahead to Sam.

“Did you have enough time to get something to eat, Sam?”

“I did, thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Sam got them to her house quickly but safely, expertly navigating the city’s traffic. She unbuckled once he stopped the car, looking to Bucky and smiling to find his gaze already on her.

“Well…thank you,” she said, suddenly nervous again, “for a lovely night.”

“Thank you, doll. Safe to say you might give me a call?”

She smirked, blushing.

“Yeah…it’s safe to say you’ll be hearing from me.”

The soft, sweet smile he gave her made her warm and tingly and, before she could second guess herself, leaned in to press a feather-light kiss to his lips.

“Good night,” she whispered.

“Sleep tight, doll.”

His gaze fell to her lips as he spoke, and she smiled into the kiss he stole.

As their lips parted and she remembered Sam was sitting in the driver’s seat, she whispered another quick ‘goodbye’ before slipping from the car and hurrying up the steps to the front door.

* * *

Bucky watched her less then graceful retreat with an amused grin. Once the door was closed behind her, the driver – Sam – spoke.

“Where can I take you, man?”

He considered giving him a fake address, but he couldn’t think of a classier address that was closer to the apartment he shared with Steve.

_Fuck, why didn’t I think of this before accepting her offer…_

If Sam told Grace where he lived…

Sam turned around to look at him, confused by his silence.

At a loss, Bucky caved and told him his address.

Sam said nothing, merely nodding before turning his focus forward and pulling away from the curb.

As Sam drove, Bucky took stock of what he’d learned of the heiress and how he felt things had went.

Grace hadn’t been what he expected. She had been far more nervous then a simple date really called for and he was thankful he’d somehow managed to get her calm enough to talk.

The date would have been excruciatingly painful otherwise.

That she was insecure was painfully obvious, but he didn’t see much reason for her to be.

While she did appear a bit bigger than she had been in the pictures he’d found through his Google search, he thought it was undeniable that she was beautiful. She’d filled out her pretty red dress perfectly, her curves hugged tight by the fabric.

In truth, it was a more classy, mature look then he’d expect from a twenty-four-year-old. Her dress revealed only a sliver of cleavage, the long sleeves adding to its simple elegance.

And her legs…

_Fuck…_

He really couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

It made her punk-ass ex leaving her all the more impossible for him to understand. Even if she was depressed after her family died (understandable), bailing like that was cowardly.

He was sure Grace was better off without him.

Sam turned into his neighborhood and Bucky tensed, waiting for him to comment on the state of the place. It wasn’t the most dangerous area of Brooklyn, but it was still going through gentrification and housed people of predominately lower income. He felt safe enough in the cramped two-bedroom apartment over the pizza joint he shared with Steve, but it still wasn’t the sort of place a Rolls Royce fit into.

The car stopped along the sidewalk in front of his building.

“Nice place,” Sam commented, peaking up at the old red-brick building, “you get free pizza as part of your rent?”

Bucky sighed.

“Sam, can –

“Hey,” he turned to look at him, “listen, I’ve spent the last five years driving spoiled brats around town. I worked for some of them for a while. Do you know how many bothered to ask me my name?”

Bucky shook his head.

Sam raised his index finger.

“One,” he said, “Ms. Kinsley. And I’ve only been driving for her for a week.”

“I…really?”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah. So, if you’re not serious about her, or think you’re gonna get away with using her, hurting her, and running off…don’t answer your phone when she calls. She doesn’t deserve that shit. But if you want to treat her right and aren’t gonna ghost her when she needs you…then I figure she doesn’t need to know about this.”

He pointed to his apartment building.

“Which is it?”

Grace Kinsley was a woman that was undoubtedly out of his league. Her anxiety and insecurities aside, she was beautiful and privileged. He wouldn’t stand a chance in hell with her any other way than this.

He might have to work hard to keep awkward silences at bay, but she seemed genuinely kind. Kind and beautiful but also anxious, lonely, and naïve.

It was a hell of a mix, one that Bucky figured many would be eager to take advantage of.

But while he was technically just with her for her money, hurting her wasn’t a part of his game plan.

He might be a man-whore, but he wasn’t malicious.

_The kid’s been through enough…_

“She’s a sweet girl,” Bucky said, “I had fun tonight and I wanna to see where this goes.”

Sam glared at him, scrutinizing him like an overprotective older brother would his sister’s date.

It was a look he’d shot many of his sisters’ dates over the years.

“Really, Sam,” he continued, “she’s been hurt enough. I’m not aiming to add to that.”

Sam nodded slowly.

“Then have a good night, man.”

Bucky nodded, returning the sentiment as he stepped out of the car.

He watched Sam pull off, waiting till he was out of sight before he headed for the side door and dug through his jacket pocket for his keys. Unlocking the security door, he quickly checked his and Steve’s mail slot before ascending the narrow stairs to their shared apartment at the top floor.

Steve was awake and lounging on the couch watching tv when he entered their apartment.

“Hey,” Steve piped up, shifting to look over the back of the couch at him, “I’m judging by the Rolls that just dropped you off that it went well?”

Bucky locked up, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door and taking off his suit jacket.

“It did…I think.”

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and flopped into the chair, knowing Steve wouldn’t budge to let him sit on the couch.

“Gave her my number,” he twisted the bottle cap off, shrugging, “it’s up to her now, I guess.”

“Come on, Buck, give me details,” Steve urged with an exasperated sigh, “what did you guys talk about, how was dinner, are you attracted to her, do you think she’s attracted to you –

“Yes,” Bucky admitted with a chuckle.

“To what?”

“She’s attracted to me,” he said, taking a swig of his beer.

Steve laughed.

“You so sure of yourself?”

“Nah, she’s just got a shitty poker face.”

He didn’t mind, nor did he think she should work on it. It was nice to have a gorgeous young woman look at him like that; it was something he could get used to.

He thought he did a good job keeping up his façade though. The lies had come easily enough without making him sound like an ass or revealing just how unaccustomed to her lavish lifestyle he was. But he didn’t need to lie about being open to having sex with her. As eager as he was to hold onto his self-respect, she really was gorgeous. It made giving her the long, dark looks that made her blush even more effortless.

“What about you? She still as beautiful as she was in the picture we saw?”

Bucky nodded, having been caught by Steve’s question mid-sip.

“Buck –

“I’m drinking, man,” he gestured to his beer, “sorry if I wasn’t expecting twenty questions.”

“Sorry, it’s just not every night you go out with such a classy lady.”

“That’s fair,” Bucky conceded, “and yeah, she is beautiful. Has a shit opinion of herself from what I picked up though. You remember her ex?”

Steve nodded.

“The punk broke up with her over voicemail a week after she buried her dad.”

“What?”

“Yeah…what can I say, kid’s a punk.”

“Shit,” Steve sighed, “guess we can’t fault her for being insecure, right?”

Bucky figured Steve had a point and nodded.

Steve continued with his questions.

“What’s she like? Is she a spoiled brat or –

“No,” Bucky said with a firmness that surprised him, “I mean, she looks the part, I guess. Her wallet was literally covered in diamonds –

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve interjected, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Bucky shrugged, “well, she said it was a clutch but whatever it was it was covered in diamonds.”

“But not spoiled,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Nah, man, she’s not,” Bucky sighed, leaning back as he thought about her, “I mean she’s definitely got money. The neighborhood she lives in is amazing and she does have a Rolls Royce but…I don’t know, I just didn’t get an entitled, ‘I’m better then everyone else’ kind of vibe from her.”

Nervous and insecure, yes, but not entitled.

“Her driver said she’s the only one in his five years on the job that bothered to ask his name.”

“Hm, well that’s something,” Steve mulled it over, “maybe this last year has changed her.”

Bucky shrugged.

Maybe, he figured, or maybe she was just a decent person that happened to have money. It was too early to know for sure.

“No idea. Anyway, I gave her my number, so it’s on her now.”

He took a long swig of his beer. It was on the polar end of the scale as far as quality went compared to the wine he’d enjoyed with Grace, but in the moment, it hit the spot.

“So, if she liked what she saw during the date she messages you to set up another?” Steve asked.

He nodded.

“You nervous?”

“A bit,” Bucky admitted, “I’ve got to keep her thinking I fit into her world, you know? And with how anxious she is, I’m worried we’re gonna have these awkward silences when we’re alone…”

“A fair concern.”

“But, I dunno, I just think she’s really lonely. Might not need to do much to make her happy.”

“So, easy money then?”

Bucky nodded.

It was probably going to be the easiest he’d ever get.

He finished off his beer and stood, heading to the kitchen to put it in the box of empties next to the fridge.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” he said, “night, man.”

“Goodnight,” Steve slumped back onto the couch, “I’m sure you’ll wake up to a text from her, Buck.”

“Thanks, Steve, I hope you’re right.”

He headed to his room, suddenly exhausted. It had been a lot of work trying to come off as relaxed and confident but having to filter himself. The worry that he would slip up had been at the forefront of his mind from the second she’d arrived until she stepped out of the Rolls Royce at her house. Now all he wanted was to get naked and get into bed.

Stepping into his bedroom, he sat his phone on his bedside table and stripped.

Draping his clothes over the chair in the corner of the small room, he ran his fingers through his hair as he sat on the edge of his bed.

He checked his phone, groaning quietly when there wasn’t a text waiting for him.

It was early, he knew that, but with so much riding on this – on her – he was eager to hear from her.

Plugging his phone in, he slipped under the covers and closed his eyes, willing himself not to dwell on it.

_It won’t help it happen._

He drifted off a few minutes later, Grace Kinsley still on his mind.

* * *

Bucky woke up to a ping that initially confused and irritated him.

Groaning, he rolled over and made to smack his alarm, until another ping broke the silence of the room and he realized it wasn’t his alarm.

Pawing for his phone amongst the mess that was his bedside table, he eventually found it, quickly unplugging it before bringing it up to look at.

Through sleep-blurred eyes, he saw it was a text from an unknown number and got excited.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and squinting as the bright light of his phone assaulted him.

Eventually, he was able to make out the message.

**?: Hi, Bucky. It’s Grace. I hope its okay I’m texting you so soon, just wanted to thank you again for last night.**

He smiled.

_Of course, she’s even nervous in her texts…_

He thought a moment about what to say before responding.

**B: Nah, doll, I’m happy to hear from you. Last night was great for me too.**

**G: Really?**

He smiled.

**B: Great food and wine with a gorgeous woman? Yeah, I’d say it was a great night xx**

It took her a moment to respond and he wondered if she was blushing as much as she was the night before.

**G: I just meant I felt like I was a bumbling idiot…not someone you’d want to spend more time with…but thank you. You’re sweet.**

**B: You’re not a bumbling idiot, Grace. It’s okay you were nervous. I was too.**

It wasn’t a lie and he figured it would reassure her to hear it. Making sure she felt safe with him was key if he was going to prove to her that he could be what she needed.

**G: You were?**

**B: Of course. First dates are always nerve-racking.**

**G: Well, you hid it well!**

**B: Don’t know about that but thank you. Was trying to impress the cute girl across the table xx**

**G: You’re incorrigible lol**

**B: Sorry, I’ll rein it in xx**

He anxiously waited for a reply, and when two minutes went by without one, he checked the time on his phone and typed –

**B: How’s your morning goin’, doll?**

**G: Slow. Haven’t managed to roll out of bed yet.**

**B: Me neither, bed’s too comfy xx**

**G: Think I could convince you to drag yourself out of bed?**

Bucky chuckled, a teasing response coming to him immediately.

**B: You could convince me to do a lot of things, doll xx**

A slight pause and then –

**G: Stop, you’re making me blush, Bucky!**

_Fuck, how is she so cute over texts?_

**B: Wish I could see ya blushin’…**

**G: Well…did you want to come over tonight? To my place? For dinner? I’m sure you’ll be able to make me blush then, too.**

_Undoubtedly._

**B: I’d love to. Can I make you dinner?**

**G: Sure. Don’t have much at home though…we could order out if its easier for you.**

**B: I’ll hit the grocery store before I come over. If you have pots and pans, we’re good.**

**G: You sure?**

**B: Positive. What can I make you?**

**G: I’m not sure…what does the chef suggest?**

His smile widened.

She might be an anxious mess but the few, fleeting moments she played along, letting a bit of sass slip out, gave him hope that – maybe – there wouldn’t be painfully uncomfortable silence between them.

Maybe he’d be able to get her to relax.

Hell, they might even have fun together.

**B: Haven’t had any complaints over my shrimp pasta – interested?**

**G: Sounds perfect. Should I send Sam your way around 5?**

**B: Works for me, doll. Can’t wait to see you xx**

**G: Can’t wait to see you either.**

Bucky cast back his blankets, slipping on a pair of sweats he fetched from the floor, before heading for the kitchen.

Steve was getting ready to make a pot of coffee when he rounded the corner.

“Mornin’,” he said, making for the big plate of eggs Steve had prepped.

Steve gave a grunt in greeting, yawning as he got the coffee maker going.

“She texted me,” Bucky said with a laugh.

Steve before coffee was always a hell of a sight.

His words broke the zombie-like trance Steve was in and he looked to Bucky with a hopeful, albeit sleepy, smile.

“That’s great, Buck.”

“Yeah, gonna make her dinner tonight.”

“Oh, going to her place? Where does she live anyway?”

“She’s got a townhouse in Manhattan,” Bucky said, shovelling eggs onto his plate, “just saw the outside of it last night, but its impressive.”

“A townhouse? That’s a lot of house for one person.”

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind; and Bucky wondered if perhaps that worsened the loneliness she’d admitting feeling last night.

He shrugged.

“What are you gonna make her?” Steve asked.

“Was thinking that shrimp pasta I make that you like so much.”

Steve hummed, “Think you can bring me back the leftovers?”

Bucky punched his shoulder.

“Demanding fucker, aren’t you?”

“Use that language with your millionaire, Barnes?” Steve scoffed.

Bucky lobbed a pillow at him as he sat on the couch to eat.

“I save it for you,” he smirked, “and she’s a multimillionaire, Rogers.”

* * *

By 4pm, Bucky still hadn’t decided what to wear.

It was just dinner at her house, but unlike dinner out at a fancy restaurant, it didn’t have a clear-cut dress code.

If she were any other woman, he’d just opt for a clean pair of sweats and a comfortable top, but she wasn’t just any other woman. This was work and she had to have certain expectations.

At a loss and certain only that going in his underwear was a no-no, he texted Natasha.

**B: SOS.**

Mercifully, he didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

**N: I’m here to save the day, Barnes. What’s the emergency?**

**B: I’m going to her house tonight and don’t know what to wear.**

**N: Ohhhhhh, so last night went well? ;)**

**B: Focus, Natasha.**

**N: Alright, fine…spoilsport. Ordering out or you making her dinner?**

**B: I’m making her dinner.**

**N: Good, she’d like that. It’s casual, Buck, relaxed. Jeans and a sweater, nothing fancier.**

**B: You sure?**

**N: Positive. She won’t be dressed up.**

**B: Okay…can do.**

**N: So how did last night go?**

**B: Nat…**

**N: Details, Barnes!**

**B: Can’t. My ride will be here soon, I’ll tell ya later.**

**N: Fine. Ass.**

**B: I’ll call you tomorrow and fill you in, promise.**

**N: I’ll hold you to that.**

Tossing his phone down on his bed, he sorted through the sweaters and jeans he’d bought on his shopping adventure with Natasha. After some debate, he settled on a thin grey sweater and dark wash jeans. He considered wearing the same shoes he had the night before but decided if Natasha was right (and she always was) to keep it casual. So, instead, he chose a pair of his cleanest sneakers.

Slipping his phone into his pocket and grabbing his wallet, he left his room in search of Steve.

Unsurprisingly, he and Wanda were curled up on the couch watching a movie.

“Do I look presentable?” he asked, stepping in front of the tv.

Steve groaned but was silenced by Wanda’s elbow pressing into his ribs.

“Do not pay him any attention, Bucky,” she said with a smile, “you look great.”

As far as Wanda knew, he was just getting ready for a date. She was over often enough that keeping it from her would have been difficult, but neither he nor Steve had told her the full truth.

‘Grace’ was just a girl he’d met at the gym and started seeing. He was just a nervous guy trying to impress a young, beautiful woman…

He hoped that would explain his nice clothes away, or just how much time he was likely going to be spending with her.

The last thing he wanted to do was confess to another person he cared about and respected that he was an escort.

“You’re sure?” he looked down at himself, “I know its just dinner at her place but –

“It’s perfect,” Wanda assured him, “you don’t need a suit and tie for a dinner date at her house, Bucky. Really.”

“O-Okay.”

“Run a comb through your hair though,” Steve piped in, “seriously man, do you ever brush your hair?”

Bucky brushed his fingers through his hair.

“Well, yeah…”

Wanda smacked Steve’s arm.

“Don’t be an ass, you’re not helping.”

“I am!”

Wanda held up her hand to block Steve’s face (and the puppy-dog eyes he was giving her) and turned her attention back to Bucky.

“A quick brush is all you need, Bucky.”

“Alright,” he toyed with the cuffs of his sleeves, “suppose I’ll take your word for it…”

“You should,” Wanda smirked, “it is cute to see you so nervous about a date though.”

“Cute?” Steve asked, grabbing her hand so she’d look at him, “Bucky’s cute?”

Wanda rolled her eyes.

“It’s cute how nervous he is,” she squeezed his hand, “your ‘cute’ is different.”

Bucky caught the look they gave each other and made to take his leave.

“Have fun, kids,” he said as he made for the door, “I’ll text you when I’m on my way home, Steve so I don’t walk in on you naked in the living room.”

“That was one time, Bucky!” Steve reminded him, blushing as Wanda laughed at his side

* * *

He was early, it was only 4:45pm by the time he stepped out of the apartment building onto the sidewalk, but Bucky had no intention of going back upstairs to wait.

Steve had never been as happy as he was with Wanda and they deserved as much privacy as they could get.

Wanda was a good woman and had been kind and polite to him from the start. Despite that, Bucky still felt like the third wheel at times. Other times…well, he felt jealous.

Sam pulling around the corner pulled him from his depressing thoughts. When he slowed to a stop in front of him, Bucky got in the front passenger seat.

Sam shot him a confused look.

“Feels weird being in the backseat,” he explained as be buckled up, “besides, there’s more leg room here.”

“Whatever floats your boat, man,” Sam said, rolling his eyes as he drove off, “Grace said you needed to make a stop before we head to her place?”

“Yeah, a grocery store. Know a decent one?”

Sam nodded.

“There’s one not far from her house.”

They drove in silence, which was fine by Bucky. By the time they pulled up in front of the grocery store, Bucky had a mental list of everything he’d need.

Sam pulled over, putting the car in park and looking at him.

“I won’t be long,” Bucky said as he unbuckled.

“Take your time, I’ll be here.”

Bucky headed into the grocery store and immediately felt out of place.

Why did a grocery store need to be so fancy?

Grabbing a basket, he looked around and groaned.

_This is ridiculous._

Eager to grab what he needed and hurry back to the car, he started weaving up and down the aisles.

_Pasta…yes…alfredo sauce…yes…basil pesto…_

Despite having as little as he did growing up, his mom made sure he wasn’t completely inept in the kitchen. On the rare occasion they could afford something other than Kraft Dinner, she had him help her.

He learned early on that there was a lot that could be done with a two-dollar bag of noodles. So, while he wasn’t a five-star chef, he could throw together a decent meal easily enough.

He only hoped it was good enough for Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? :)


	6. Between Kisses & Nervous Touches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace and Bucky spend a night in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely kudos and comments! You are all fantastic!

**Manhattan, NY**

It was quarter to five and Grace still had no idea what to wear.

She was standing in her walk-in closet wearing nothing but panties and a bra, her hands on her hips as she looked over her options. On instinct, she wanted to reach for a pair of leggings and a trusty sweater. It was just dinner and tv in – comfy clothes were alright for that? Right?

She tried to think of what Bucky might wear but the more she dwelled on it, the more she considered herself an idiot for not either asking him or clarifying with Molly before his arrival was imminent.

_Okay, this is stupid…_

“Dinner in,” she said to herself, “comfy clothes work.”

She rifled through the drawers.

“Comfy,” she nodded, a touch more confident, “but cute. Does that exist?”

She tossed aside a few duds, before landing on a pair of leggings she hadn’t worn since buying. They were shorter, ending just below her knee. Slipping them on, she was relieved to rediscover that they flattened out the embarrassing softness of her stomach.

_Victory!_

Reinvigorated, she found one of her old NYU hoodies that looked like it might still fit her. She pulled on a thin tank top, then donned the zip-up hoodie.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror in her closet, fidgeting and adjusting the imperfections she saw. Toying with the zipper, she pulled it down some so the sweater opened some, allowing more of her tank top to be visible.

She crossed her fingers any imperfections Bucky saw in her would be harder for him to dwell on when faced with cleavage.

_Okay…okay, this isn’t bad…_

She took her hair out of the messy ponytail she had it up in, running her fingers through it to free up the tangles.

_Okay…this is okay…I’ve got this…_

The doorbell rang and Grace jumped.

_Okay…okay I don’t have this…I do not have this!_

Knowing she couldn’t just ignore it; she took a deep breath and shoved her phone in the pocket of her sweater before hurrying down the stairs.

With each step, she reminded herself that he seemed to like her well enough. He’d agreed to come over, after all, and their date…

She might not have had much experience dating, but she thought theirs had been amazing. The fluttering in her stomach had lingered for hours after they’d parted, and she kept replaying the whole thing over in her mind.

His pretty blue eyes and sinfully sexy smell…

His hand on hers…

And when he’d said he was ‘interested’ in having sex with her…

Looking back, she wondered how her head hadn’t exploded the second that had left his lips.

_Oh, fuck, his lips!_

She never knew a simple kiss could be so thrilling.

The doorbell rang again as she stepped onto the main level and she quickly deactivated the security system and opened the door.

Bucky looked up and smiled as she stepped out into the vestibule and reached for the security door’s latch.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him; sweet and smiling and oh-so handsome.

_How does he make jeans and a sweater look so damn good?_

“Hey, doll.”

She smiled, blushing wildly as she flicked open the latch and opened the door for him.

“H-Hey,” she breathed.

Her gaze fell to his hands and she realized he was carrying a couple of grocery bags.

_Right, groceries…for dinner…_

“Can I take something?” she asked, nervously clearing her throat and reaching for the bags.

But Bucky moved the bags away with a playful smirk as he stepped closer to her.

Without her heels, their height difference was much more noticeable. Grace didn’t mind…she just hoped he didn’t either.

He slipped his free arm around her waist, pulling her close and giving a little hum as she pressed against him. It reminded her of his humming the night before and she chuckled.

“Laughing at me already, Grace?” he asked, gaze darting from her eyes to her lips.

She bit her lip and shook her head.

“I’m laughing at your humming.”

His focus remained fixed on her lips and something in his eyes told her he hadn’t really heard her.

“Bitin’ your lip like that’s dangerous, doll,” he warned, voice low and husky.

It was enough to make her melt and she lightly touched his chest as she fought to find her voice.

_Words, Kinsley, find your words!_

“Is it?”

He smirked and answered her with a kiss.

It pulled a soft moan from her and she fisted the fabric of his sweater in her hand, overwhelmed by the feel of him.

_Dear lord…_

She’d need to get used to how incredibly his kisses were quickly, else sex with him would put her in a coma.

He smiled at her as they parted, seemingly pleased with himself.

“Hell of a greeting,” he murmured, placing a quick peck on her kiss-swollen lips, “you’re too good to me, doll.”

She let out a shaky, nervous breath and stepped back from him, suddenly very aware they were on her front step.

It was a reaction that did nothing to dampen his delight.

“Cheeky little shit,” she admonished with a poorly contained grin.

He laughed.

“Well, let me inside before we give your neighbors more of a show.”

She rolled her eyes as she stepped aside, letting him in while she latched the door behind them. When the large oak door was closed and locked as well, she turned to find Bucky looking up and around, seemingly taking in every detail of the foyer.

He seemed a little nervous when he turned and saw her watching him.

“Sorry…you’ve got a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. I’d offer you a tour but a lot of it is empty. It’s a lot of house to fill.”

A lot of house for a single person, if she was being honest. But at the time she hadn’t been interested in looking around.

“Some other time then,” Bucky said with a grin, “kitchen?”

He raised the grocery bags and she nodded quickly, headed for the stairs down to the garden level.

“Down here.”

He seemed surprised but followed her without a word of protest.

“I hope I have everything you’ll need,” Grace said, looking back at him nervously, “I haven’t used the kitchen since I moved in.”

_Fuck…too much information, Kinsley…_

“Not once?”

“It’s weird, I know,” she mumbled as they reached the last steps, biting the inside of her cheek.

She’d been down earlier to clean and ensure the worst of the dust bunnies were caught. She had the tv going in the family room at the other end of the space, ‘Friends’ playing on the flatscreen above the fireplace.

Now though she wondered if she should have found the time to get some groceries before he came over, if only so the cupboards wouldn’t be completely empty.

Bucky’s hand on hers pulled her from her thoughts.

“You’re gonna hurt your lip there, doll.”

She was confused, until she realized she had been biting her lip as she was thinking.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hey…”

His fingers at her chin made her jump in surprise.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious…”

His thumb brushed against her tender bottom lip, the sensation enough to pull a smile from her.

“I know,” she whispered, “it’s okay.”

“You know you don’t have to overthink things with me,” he pressed a light kiss to her lips, “I wanna make sure you’re taking care of yourself, doll. ‘m not judging when and why you use your appliances.”

Grace tried to contain her grin but broke out into laughter, the cheeky look he was giving her doing nothing to quiet her.

“There, cheered up,” he said proudly.

Grace nodded, cheeks warm from laughter, and looked up at him affectionately.

“Yes…thank you, Bucky...”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he cautioned, “my pasta might be a huge disappointment.”

Grace wasn’t sure ‘disappointment’ was a word she would ever apply to him in any way.

“I somehow doubt that.”

He winked and gave her hand a tight squeeze before letting go to head into the kitchen. Grace watched him as he went.

“Can I ask why you have such a huge place when its just you here?” he asked as he sat the bags down on the counter and started pulling groceries out.

Grace shrugged as she stepped around the kitchen island.

“I was living in my dad’s place and it just got too hard being there,” she explained, “I wasn’t interested in exploring the market, I just kind of went with the first place that felt right.”

“So, an impulse purchase?”

She nodded, “I guess you can call it that, yeah.”

_An eight-million-dollar impulse purchase…but yeah, lets go with that…_

“Why did this place feel right?” he asked, glancing to her as he unpacked the last of what he’d brought.

“There’s a terrace on the roof I thought was nice…not that I’ve used it,” she admitted, “and I liked the garden. I…I’ve always wanted a dog…thought I’d get one once I moved here.”

Her father had a dog when she and her brother were younger, but as they got older and their lives got busier, they hadn’t gotten another once Rupert passed. She’d always loved dogs though and had thought the second she could, she’d have one of her own.

But Max didn’t like dogs, so she’d not pursued the idea further.

“You should, doll.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, “I mean…Max isn’t here to shoot down the idea anymore…”

“He was against it?”

Grace nodded, “He hates dogs.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her as though she’d just blasphemed.

“What?”

“He hates dogs.”

Bucky swore under his breath and Grace smirked.

“Doll, that was your first sign he was no good,” he said with a groan.

She couldn’t help but think he was spot on with that.

“I know, I know. Hindsight and all that,” she bit the inside of her cheek as she watched him, “so…dog lover?”

Bucky nodded.

“I’d have one myself, if my place allowed pets,” he admitted.

“And you’re not lonely?”

It was a dumb question. The man was insanely gorgeous – how could he be hurting for company?

“Nah,” he shrugged, “I’ve got a pain-in-the-ass best friend as a room mate…he’s demanding enough. Where are your pots and pans?”

She stepped around him to open one of the lower cupboards.

“This is what I’ve got.”

He moved to her side, crouching down to see what options he had. He grabbed a large pot and a frying pan, shooting her a mischievous grin as he stood.

“What?” she asked, wary.

He chuckled as he shook his head.

“What!” she snapped as his laughter intensified but he made no move to speak, “Bucky!”

Finally, he managed to take a breath and slipped his arm around her, pulling her in to kiss the top of her head.

“It just doesn’t surprise me that the pots and pans are in the lower cupboard, doll.”

Grace gasped, blushing furiously and pushing away from him to look him in the eye.

“A short joke? Really?”

But even as she scolded him, she couldn’t keep from smiling. He looked so happy and relaxed…it was impossible to tell him off.

“’m sorry, doll,” he muttered, trying and failing to smother his delight, “really.”

“Yeah, you really look remorseful.”

“I am!”

“Sure, you are…”

She hoped she was playing it off well, but she did feel a bit self conscious.

He was tall, dark, and handsome.

She was short, chubby, and awkward.

They had no business being together.

She swallowed hard, heart racing as a thousand worries stampeded through her mind.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, his hand on the small of her back, “it just means I get to play the hero and help you reach things up high.”

_Fuck, how is he so goddamn sweet?_

“I guess that’s reason enough to keep you around,” she muttered, smiling and trying to avoid the intensity of his gaze, “can I help?”

“Sure, doll. You have a cutting board?”

“I…I think so.”

After some searching, she found one. It was still in its packaging, but she chalked it up as a victory regardless. When she had it opened and had given it a quick clean, she looked to Bucky expectantly.

The soft look he was giving her made her blush.

She wondered if he was going to tease her again and began tapping her fingers on the countertop to disguise the trembling of her hands.

“You’re really fucking cute; do you know that?”

“I…umm.”

No. She really didn’t.

Not with the weight she’d gained in the last year.

Not when Max had moved on to someone so incredibly perfect the second he’d dumped her.

Not when she’d been pinned under the thumb of her anxiety and depression for months on end…

“Hey, get out of your head there, doll,” he nudged her, “you’re too cute to be pouting.”

“Sorry…guess I’m just not used to it,” she gave a small shrug, “being complimented.”

She grabbed the packages of mushrooms and grape tomatoes, eager to shift the focus back to their meal.

Her insecurity couldn’t be all that attractive…

“So, the guy hated dogs and didn’t tell you every day how beautiful you are,” Bucky shook his head, looking at her from the corner of his eye as she averted his gaze, “what a punk…”

Grace gave a short laugh.

“What next?”

He directed her to rinse and dice the mushrooms as he filled the pot with water and placed it on the stove top. She finished up and rinsed her hands as he sat aside the cut tomatoes and moved onto the shrimp.

“Where did you learn how to cook?” she asked, uneasy with the silence.

Bucky smirked but kept his focus on what he was doing.

“My mom,” he answered, “she made sure my sisters and I knew enough so we wouldn’t starve as soon as we were on our own.”

“A good skill to have.”

“Anyone teach you?”

She shook her head.

“By the time I was five, my dad’s business was doing so well he hired a personal chef – who was far above answering a curious kid’s questions…”

“I’ll have to teach you then.”

Mushrooms and tomatoes prepped, Bucky opened the bag of noodles and poured them into the boiling water.

“Figured I’d make a big batch so you can have some leftovers,” he explained.

_How does he keep upping his sweetness?_

“Thank you.”

She watched him in silence as he worked and was relieved that it felt a bit more comfortable. But he was like a magnet, his pull impossible to ignore. And despite not wanting to get caught gawking at him, her focus wandered from the pot to him.

To his hands. To his arms, which looked strong and muscular despite being covered by the sleeves of his sweater.

To his waist, where she wondered if he was as strong and solid as he looked.

Did he have a six-pack?

_Fuck, of course he does…just look at him…_

Unable to restrain herself, she touched his side.

Bucky jumped slightly at the contact and she pulled her hand back quickly, giving him an apologetic look.

Had he not seen her ogling him and been surprised by the touch? Was it unwelcomed? Too bold?

She had just met him the night before –

“It’s okay,” he assured her with a grin, letting go of the spoon he was stirring with to grab her hand and bring it back to his side, “just didn’t think you’d feel comfortable touching me so soon.”

Grace tentatively shifted her hand from his side to the small of his back. He was so warm and smelled so good…

She rested her forehead against his shoulder to hide her face and couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

“I’m not…I mean…I am, I-I just…”

She sighed, biting her lip as she slipped her other arm around his front to loosely hug him.

“I mean…I’m nervous…you make me nervous, but,” she groaned, mortified, “can’t help it.”

She felt him laugh and bit her lip harder.

“It’s okay, Grace. Touch away.”

“You…you’re sure?”

“Positive,” he said, “so…I make you nervous?”

She gave a snort of laughter.

“As if it isn’t obvious…”

“Well it is,” he admitted, voice seductively low, “still nice to hear you admit it. Got to drain the pasta, doll.”

She let go of him so he could reach the sink, waiting with her gaze downcast for him to return.

“Like you need me to tell you,” she muttered, chuckling nervously.

Man or woman, she was sure anyone with eyes could tell he was gorgeous. Surely people told him?

He turned back to the oven.

“It’s always nice to hear,” he said with a shrug, “haven’t heard it from many women I’ve seen…”

The last part was hushed, almost under his breath, and Grace looked up at him, startled by it.

His gaze was fixed on the pot as he added alfredo sauce and pesto to the noodles, but there was something about the look on his face that had her curious.

Did…did he think he said too much?

His jaw was clenched, tight and sharp. His brow was furrowed, gaze intense but somehow reticent…

She supposed in his line of work, compliments and affection could be one sided. He was hired to make the women he entertained feel good…how many of them wanted the same for him? How many complimented him as he did them?

In that moment, Grace had come to a decision.

She was going to make sure it went both ways with them.

After all, he’d been so kind and sweet in the brief amount of time they’d known each other, how could she not reciprocate? Especially when she was confident that he was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on.

Him doubting that seemed sacrilegious.

She spoke up as he added the veggies and shrimp to the pasta.

“Well…those women were all idiots,” she said confidently, looking up at him with a shy smile.

He looked at her with something akin to apprehension, licking his lips.

Did he do that when he was nervous?

She wasn’t sure; not yet anyway.

“You’re…so, so beautiful,” she admitted, cheeks flaming hot with embarrassment, “definitely the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Hands down.”

Seemingly incredulous, he gave a small snort as his smile slowly returned.

“You’re something else, doll.”

“I don’t know about that,” she muttered, “but if you’re going to make me blush, be all sweet, and…and make me feel good…I want to do the same for you.”

She toyed with the bottom of his sweater, nervous energy reverberating through her body.

He let out a heavy sigh and she looked up, startled by it.

“That’s not expected, doll. I’m here for you.”

He was right, she supposed. She did hire him, after all.

But surely that didn’t mean she shouldn’t endeavor to make him feel good too? Otherwise it’d be so one-sided she’d feel like he was indentured to her.

Her hand returned to his back.

“Well, maybe,” she conceded, “but if we’re going to be spending time together…if we’re going to…to _be_ together at some point, wouldn’t it be weird for it to be one-sided?”

Based on his furrowed brow, she guessed he wasn’t convinced.

“And to be honest,” she continued, swallowing hard, “it’s something I’d really like…”

“Really?” he mumbled.

The look he gave her was so vulnerable and open, it initially caught her off guard.

Was this part of the game she had hired him to play? Was this acting? She just didn’t know.

She recovered quickly enough, nodding.

“Yeah, I mean…I’m an awkward, nervous mess right now and its still not enough to keep me from touching you…”

“That’s…a fair point. Okay, doll, we play this your way.”

She smiled bright and hurried to fetch two bowls from the cupboard.

As she returned to him with them in hand, he took them from her and shooed her away.

“I’ve got it,” he said, “go sit down.”

She did as he said, making for the couch in the family room. When she sat down, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and dug it out.

Grace had half a dozen missed texts from Molly.

**M: Give me details after he heads home, hun!**

**M: if he does ;)**

**M: Oh! Snag a picture of him! Wanna see for myself how pretty he is!**

**M: And if you have sex be sure to be safe! Tell him to wrap it up!**

**M: And you had better give me details!**

**M: I bet he’s packing ;)**

Grace groaned, quickly typing a reply to placate her cousin for a bit longer.

**G: Don’t be crude, Mol. I’ll call you later, promise. Now leave me to my date!**

She sat her phone down on the coffee table as Bucky approached with their dinner.

“Your other guy tryin’ to steal ya away from me?” he questioned as he handed her a bowl.

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, “no, its just Molly pestering me.”

“Your cousin?”

She nodded as she stabbed her fork into the pasta, taking a big bite.

“Wow,” she mumbled, mouth full, “so good!”

Bucky beamed, digging into his own bowl.

They ate in a silence only his contented humming interrupted.

When he’d made a good dent in his food, Bucky spoke.

“So…what was Molly bugging you for?”

“Details,” Grace smiled, “about my hot date.”

He laughed.

“I think I might leave her hanging,” she continued, “it’ll serve her right for being so damn nosy.”

“I’m sure she’s just being protective. But I know how you feel…my pain-in-the-ass roommate is the same way.”

“Does he know what you do for a living?”

Bucky nodded.

“He’s one of the few that do, though I don’t tell him anything about who I’m seeing,” he winked, “so don’t worry, you’re my little secret.”

“I believe you, Bucky,” she said sincerely, “you hide what you do for a living?”

Bucky shrugged.

“It’s not a traditional nine-to-five job. A lot of people would be judgemental and its just not something I want to deal with.”

“That’s fair. He’s not judgemental though, right? Your roommate?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, Steve’s a good guy. I’ve known him since we were kids. We were in the army together.”

“I’m glad you have him.”

If there was anything she had learned in the last year, it was that having a single good, true friend had more weight than having a hundred who would run at the first sign of rough waters. She tried to remind herself of that whenever she was low and while it didn’t always cheer her up, it made her appreciate Molly even more.

“Can I ask you something about Max?” Bucky asked, setting his empty bowl aside and turning to face her on the couch.

Grace nodded.

“Do you still love him?”

The question caught her off guard and she choked on her mouthful of pasta, frantically hitting her chest to dislodge it.

“Jesus, doll!”

Bucky, pale and mortified, touched her shoulder as she was able to take a gasping breath.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder as she coughed.

Grace managed to nod before finally finding her voice.

“This your game, Bucky?” she said, voice raspy and strained, “try to kill me with good food?”

He moved closer to her, rubbing her back as she continued to take shaky breaths as she cleared her throat.

“Nah, I swear. Frig, doll, I’m sorry –

“It’s okay,” she gasped, red-faced and teary-eyed, “you’ve just got to give me some warning before you lay a question like that on me. Or at least make sure I’ve swallowed my food.”

She coughed again and Bucky ran to the kitchen, grabbing her some water and returning before she made to cough again.

She accepted the glass with a grateful smile.

After a few sips, she felt better and sat the glass and her bowl down on the coffee table.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, voice soft and laced with concern.

She turned to him and smiled.

“Yeah, I’m good. My life flashed before my eyes, but I’m good.”

He pouted and she knew he’d taken her more seriously then she intended.

“Doll, I –

Grace shushed him, grabbing and squeezing his hand.

“Bucky, I’m fine.”

“Still,” he mumbled.

His sudden bashfulness was adorable, and she shifted onto her knees so she could lean in and kiss him. She moaned the second their lips met, her hands grasping his shoulders to steady herself.

Bucky deepened their kiss, nipping her bottom lip and flicking his tongue across it when she whined.

He smirked against her lips, taking advantage of her blissful state to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her towards him. As she settled in his lap, a shiver ran up and down her spine and she broke their kiss.

“B-Bucky…”

Straddling him wasn’t a part of her game plan for the night and her heart was racing wildly. He was warm and solid under her, his hands at her hips more to steady her then keep her in place.

It still startled her just how good they felt at her hips, how good he felt against her.

She knew at that moment she was well and truly fucked.

Bucky had her wrapped around his finger.

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he muttered between quick, teasing kisses, “just needed ya closer to kiss you like you deserve…”

She relaxed some, shaking as he pulled her in for a deep, savoring kiss.

She brought her trembling hands up, fingers grazing his neck and settling along his sharp jawline.

_Holy fuck…_

His hands dropped from her hips to her thighs and she whined as he rubbed up and down.

It was sensory overload.

_He_ was sensory overload.

She pulled back, lips parting as they gasped for breath.

He brushed her hair back and gave her a quick look before dipping down to kiss the curve of her neck.

She jumped at the sensation of his soft lips against her skin, the scratch of his stubbly chin.

“B-Bucky,” she breathed, dizzy and pliant, “fuck…”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling her skin.

“Language, doll.”

She sat back in his lap and he let her, lightly touching her hips as she collected herself.

Grace licked her lips and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and the excitement he’d sparked in her.

“I don’t think a kiss has ever done that to me before,” she whispered.

“Then you haven’t been kissed properly,” he quipped, grabbing her hands and kissing them as he threaded his fingers between hers, “which takes us back to my poorly timed question…”

Grace looked at their hands, smiling and still a little dizzy from his kiss.

“No, the love is gone,” she said calmly, voice not wavering, “when he first left, I spent about a month and a half hoping he’d come back. If he did then…maybe I’d have taken him back. But now…well, I think I dodged a bullet not marrying him. I mean, what sort of dirt bag leaves like he did?”

“The worst kind.”

She looked up at him.

“How I feel about him now…well, I’m bitter and angry,” she winced as the words left her, “which isn’t awesome but…”

“Understandable,” he assured her, “its understandable you feel that way, doll.”

“Maybe,” she chewed the inside of her cheek, “he…he just moved on so easily. I mean, we were together for two years and a single thirty-second voicemail ended it. I guess…it just feels wrong he’s been able to move on and continue his life while I’m here struggling…”

Why was all the pain hers alone to endure?

Had leaving really been that easy? How long had be thought on it before making that call?

She’d thought of it for months afterward and hadn’t figured it out yet.

It left her in a strange limbo that made everything so much harder.

“All the shit you’ve been through, doll,” Bucky began, his voice pulling her back to the present, “no one could fault you for struggling…I don’t.”

She looked at him closely, wary for some sign of deception but finding none.

His blue eyes were clear, fixed on her with a depth that alarmed her.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, “I do, Grace. It won’t be like this forever though.”

There was something about his tone, about the way he was looking at her and holding her hands, that made her chest tighten.

_Fuck, Kinsley, don’t go crying now…_

“It won’t?” she questioned, voice tight and low.

He smirked, shaking his head as he regarded her.

“Nah, doll, it might not feel like it, but this is temporary. You’ll get where ya need to be.”

“I hope so,” she said with a sigh.

“And,” Bucky continued, tone teasing, “if you ever wanna make him eat his words, we can hit up a fancy party and you can flaunt me around.”

She laughed, loving the idea.

“That would be perfect!”

“I have good ideas every now and then,” he winked, pulling her close to kiss her.

* * *

**Brooklyn, NY**

It was almost midnight by the time Sam dropped him off in front of his apartment. He thanked the man and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

His evening with Grace had left him strangely upbeat and despite being exhausted, he felt a little jittery. When he stepped into the apartment, tossing his keys down and locking the door, he heard muffled moans coming from Steve’s room.

He hurried down the hall to his room, not wanting to disturb them.

As he stripped off his sweater and jeans, he took stock of his night with Grace.

He honestly couldn’t have asked for a better night with her (nearly killing her with a poorly timed question aside). Silences had been minimal and not truly uncomfortable, and he’d gotten to kiss and touch her more then he expected.

Also unexpected, was just how much he enjoyed it. That she was nervous and not all that experienced was evident, but she was sweet and eager. Her little moans and sharp intakes of breath had sent his heart racing. 

She also seemed a lot more level-headed then he initially thought. He figured a lot of people who’d been hurt that badly by an ex might be vulnerable enough to take them back if the chance came up. There was comfort in the familiar, if nothing else. But she seemed to truly believe she was better off without Max despite the hurt that lingered.

It gave him more hope that their arrangement wouldn’t be interrupted by her running back to that punk, that it would be the long-term deal Natasha teased him with.

What still had him a bit shaken was her admission she wanted him to feel good, that she didn’t want things to be one-sided between them. It just wasn’t something he’d encountered before on the job.

It made the idea of navigating that daunting.

Hell, the women he’d been with before her rarely paused in their frantic pawing of his clothes to so much as kiss him. He’d never been completely naked with them either, and he had a feeling Grace would want him to be.

With a groan, he worried for the first time that he’d have to tell her about his scars.

Would she run for the hills like the first woman who hired him had?

_Probably…_

The thought stressed him, but he knew deep down he couldn’t figure it out tonight.

_Maybe I’ll run it by Steve in the morning…_

He flopped on his bed, naked, as he made to text her a final ‘goodnight’ before trying to get some sleep.

But upon opening his phone and checking his messages, he realized Grace had beat him to it.

**G: Just wanted to thank you again for a great night, Bucky. I had a great time, near death experience aside ;)**

He laughed.

**B: You’re never gonna let me live that down, are ya? xx**

**G: Nope, hate to burst your bubble!**

**B: If you didn’t need me to reach things on the top shelf for ya, I’d be worried you didn’t want me, doll xx**

**G: Haha. Very funny. You’re lucky you’re cute :)**

**B: It’s my saving grace xx**

**G: Dork.**

**B: Your dork xx**

She was blushing now, he knew it.

**G: You just cemented your dork-ness there, Bucky.**

**B: I can live with that, doll xx**

**G: Urgh, you’re relentless.**

A dirty quip came to mind, but he decided against it.

He had nearly killed her after all.

**B: Go to bed, doll xx**

**G: Like I can sleep now…**

He smirked.

**G: I can’t believe I just typed that…**

**B: Won’t use it against you, I promise xx**

**G: Ha, I have a hard time believing that!**

**B: Bed, Kinsley.**

**G: Right…you’re right.**

**B: Often am.**

Her answer was an eye-rolling emoji.

**G: Fine, I’m going to bed.**

**B: Good. Sleep tight, doll, and let me know as soon as you’re hurting for kisses xx**

**G: You’ll be the first to know, handsome. Night.**

He licked his lips, smiling like an idiot as he reread their texts. He plugged in his phone, setting an alarm just to make sure he didn’t sleep the day away, and rolled over.

When he woke the next morning, it was to an e-transfer from Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> I friggin' loved writing this chapter, so I really hope you guys enjoyed reading it!  
> Grace and Bucky fluff makes my heart happy :)


	7. Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace shares an intimate phone call with Bucky.

**Brooklyn, NY**

“Well…damn,” Steve mumbled.

Bucky sighed, rubbing his face as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I know…”

“Awfully generous considering you just made her dinner and hung out,” Steve said with an amused look, handing Bucky back his phone.

Bucky sat his phone on the counter, not wanting to look at the money just sitting there, waiting for him to accept the transfer.

“Well…we made out, too…but…it’s still a lot of money…”

Steve crossed his arms as he looked at his friend, confused by his apparent conflict.

“And this is bad…because?”

It wasn’t bad, not on its own, but it made him recall his worries from the night before. Worries that were easy enough to push aside when his head hit the pillow.

Now…

Grace had said she didn’t want things to be one-sided with them. But one-sided was all he knew, and in truth, it helped him disconnect whenever he was with someone; to escape to that dark corner in the back of his mind so his skin didn’t crawl.

If he let Grace’s hands wander…

There’d be no distance, no disconnect…

He didn’t know how to rationalize needing that distance with his desire to touch her. He also wasn’t sure how to tackle the realization that he hadn’t had to put on much of an act with her. Sure, he’d filtered what he’d said some, but kissing her was easy.

“It’s not bad,” Bucky mumbled, “it’s just…”

“Talk to me, Bucky. What’s on your mind?”

He shrugged.

“Last night…she just said something that has me worried.”

“What?”

“She…doesn’t want things between us to be one-sided. I…don’t know what to do with that. Things being one-sided lets me just…disconnect and do what they hired me to do.”

Steve frowned.

“So, the women you see don’t touch you?”

Bucky shook his head.

They might grab his shoulders or ass in the heat of the moment, but there was never anything intentionally intimate. No lingering kisses to his neck, no exploring fingers running down his stomach, no handjobs, and certainly no blowjobs.

“I’m there to make them feel good…”

“Still…”

“It’s sex, Steve, nothing more,” Bucky reminded him, slightly irritated, “but…she’s going to want more.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“No…yes,” he grumbled, “fuck, I don’t know, Steve. This isn’t a relationship; she pays for me to be with her.”

‘More’ could risk blurring the line between what they were and what she wanted them to be, which could make things complicated and messy. It wasn’t something he wanted to risk, not when so much was riding on keeping Grace’s interest.

“It makes me nervous,” he admitted, “I have to keep her happy but keeping distance between my head and…and what I do…stops my skin from crawling.”

Steve gave him a pained look and Bucky cleared his throat, uneasy.

“It just has me thinking…she’s going to want me to take my shirt off. My scars…well, the one woman who hired me and saw the scars went running for the hills. I can’t afford for Grace to do the same.”

Steve nodded.

“So, you need to figure out a way for her to feel like it’s…what? Real?”

Bucky considered it and nodded.

“Without you being uncomfortable,” Steve added, “and without her reacting badly to your scars…”

Hearing Steve run it down like that made it seem more daunting and Bucky groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he asked himself for the hundredth time why he’d allowed himself to get into this situation.

“Does she know you were in the military?”

“Yes,” Bucky mumbled.

“Then…maybe just tell her what happened,” Steve offered, “you nearly died, Buck. Who in their right mind would use those scars against you?”

“First one did…”

She’d been the first client Natasha had arranged for him. Decent looking, smart, eager…

He’d gotten wrapped up in her kisses easily enough, stripping out of his clothes faster than his mind could catch up and urge caution. The second her fingers grazed his shoulder she’d broken their kiss and stared at the rough skin she’d found.

Bucky still remembered how the dark, lustful look in her green eyes shifted to surprise and then revulsion.

“But Grace seems to be wanting to take things slower right?” Steve asked, still trying to figure it out for him, “’boyfriend experience’ right? Maybe you can build a foundation and tell her before she finds out in the heat of the moment.”

“I…maybe.”

It seemed doable when Steve said it like that. Grace might have been more willing to touch him then he expected, but he didn’t think she’d be ready for sex the next time she invited him over.

He had time.

Time to get to know her a bit better, lay a foundation…

“Don’t try to figure it all out right now,” Steve said gently, noting the concerned look in his eyes, “accept the transfer and sit tight until she texts you again.”

“I suppose…”

There was no point worrying about his scars or anything else if Grace didn’t text him again. He felt good about how things went between them, but he had almost killed her with his poor timing…

Not his finest moment.

He grabbed his phone and accepted the transfer before he could second guess it.

“See?” Steve smirked, “easy.”

Bucky managed a smile but couldn’t help but remain wary. Accepting the money was easy, figure out Grace Kinsley wasn’t going to be so simple.

* * *

**Manhattan, NY**

Molly gave a dramatic whine, clutching her drink as she smirked and did a little dance.

“I am a genius!” she declared, beaming, “a complete and utter genius!”

Grace chuckled, taking a sip of her beer.

Molly sat down her drink and grabbed Grace’s hand.

“Give me details!”

“I told you everything, Mol!”

“Like hell!” she scoffed, “you can’t tell me he kissed you like that, and you didn’t jump his bones!”

Grace shrugged.

Molly’s expression fell and she stomped her foot.

“Gracie!”

“I’m sorry!” Grace smirked, setting down her beer and raising her hands in defense, “it’s just…not that simple, Mol.”

She was certain she had never been so thrilled by a kiss before. It felt so comfortable, it was impossible not to sink into it…sink into him.

“He’s just so…”

Handsome.

Sweet.

Gentle.

Addicting.

“Gorgeous?” Molly offered, smirking lewdly.

Grace laughed and nodded.

“Among other things,” she bit her lip, “Mol, he’s just…something else. I mean…I’ve hardly known him two days and the excitement I feel…fuck, I never felt that with Max…”

“Max is a stupid fucking boy. This Bucky…sounds like a hell of a man.”

Molly wiggled her eyebrows as she sipped her drink.

“He is,” Grace said softly, sighing at the thought of him, “I mean it was just so nice, you know? Helping him with dinner was…so nice, normal. I felt better after a night with him then I have in months…”

“And that was without sex,” Molly shook her head, amazed, “might be wise to have a defibrillator handy for when things heat up…”

Grace couldn’t argue her on that.

The oven beeped and Grace turned off the alarm and grabbed the oven mitts, carefully taking out the pizza they’d been waiting on.

“Honestly, Mol…after months of feeling like shit this is…well…”

She didn’t know how to put it into words.

It was like whiplash, going from misery to…to…

“You look happy,” Molly said softly, her eyes watery, “and excited.”

Grace smirked, turning off the oven and leaning against the counter.

“I am,” she admitted, as awed by it as Molly was, “I’m optimistic, you know? Like…I want to text him right now, just to say hi and see if he’ll write something flirty.”

She shrugged, a little embarrassed by the admission.

“Aw, Gracie…”

“And…I want to see him again,” she continued, blushing, “I want to go out with him…and a week ago I was content to stay in the house indefinitely.”

Molly patted her hand excitedly.

“Text him!”

“Mol –

“Text him, you stubborn –

“Fine!” Grace rolled her eyes, fishing her phone out of her sweater pocket, “what do I say?”

Molly moved to her side to see the screen of her phone, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Anything!” she rubbed her hands together, “Something! Come on, Gracie! Wanna see what he says!”

Grace chewed her lip, frantically thinking of what to say.

“Ah!”

She typed –

**G: Hey, handsome, you up?**

It wasn’t too late, but maybe he was already asleep?

Maybe she should have texted him sooner…maybe…

**B: I’m here, Grace.**

**B: And happy to see your name on my phone, whatever the time xx**

Molly squealed.

**G: You’re a dork.**

**B: Guilty as charged. How was your day?**

“Aww,” Molly whined, resting her head on Grace’s shoulder, “Gracie…”

**G: Good, but not very productive. I’ve got Molly over now…was thinking of you though…**

**B: Were you now? Anything you feel like sharing, doll? xx**

“He calls you ‘doll’?” Molly asked, “fuck, can he get any sweeter?”

_Nope, don’t think it’s possible!_

**G: Was thinking about how much I liked kissing you last night…**

“Oh, Grace!” Molly smacked her arm.

**B: Care for a repeat, doll?**

**G: Think I could twist your arm to come over tomorrow night?**

**B: No twisting necessary – I’m all yours xx**

Molly fanned herself.

**G: Lucky me :) can I send Sam by around five?**

**B: Of course, beautiful. I’ll be waiting xx**

“Holy fuck, you’re so lucky!” Molly whined, head rolling back dramatically, “Gracie…”

Grace laughed but couldn’t help but agree.

* * *

Between the two of them, they demolished the pizza easily. They watched a movie, played a couple board games, and Molly left just before midnight.

After taking a quick shower, Grace slipped into a comfy pair of sweatpants and a tank top, foregoing blow drying her hair to retreat to the comfort of her bed.

As she crawled into bed, she grabbed her phone from her nightside table and sent a quick email to Sam asking if he’d be able to pick up Bucky. Confident she’d wake up to a response from Sam, she flopped down and opened her conversation with Bucky.

She smiled as she reread their chat from earlier in the night, then mulled over the idea of texting him again.

But she didn’t want to seem needy or clingy. She might be paying him for his company, but the man was entitled to a break from her. Besides, they’d already arranged a time to meet up again so there wasn’t any reason to risk waking him up…

She closed her phone and rolled over, making to plug it in, but was stopped by it pinging.

Thinking it was Molly, she checked her messages.

_O-Oh…_

It wasn’t Molly.

**B: Just wanted to say goodnight. Hope you had fun with Molly, babydoll xx**

It was simple and sweet, but more then enough to make her blush and melt…and wish that he was with her so she could kiss him as fervently as she so badly wanted to.

Sinking back into her pillows, she made to reply.

**G: I was just about to text you lol**

**B: Were you now ;)**

**G: You dork…yes, I had fun with Molly. She kept bugging me about you though.**

**B: Good bugging?**

**G: Yeah, she seemed awfully proud of herself for suggesting I give this a try. She said I look happy.**

**B: And are you?**

**G: I really am. Are you? I hate to be so demanding of your time. If you want to hold off seeing me again so soon…**

Grace nervously awaited his reply, chewing her bottom lip until it was tender.

**B: I really don’t, doll. I can’t wait to see you, believe me. Kept thinking about you all day today…**

Grace smiled, heart racing at his words.

**G: Really?**

**B: Really xx**

Her fingers tapped the screen of her phone and hit ‘send’ before she could second guess herself.

**G: What were you thinking about?**

The idea that their kisses might affect him like they had her was exciting. She wasn’t very experienced – only being with two men did that – but she’d tried to relax. She’d wanted to; he was so incredibly perfect. The touch of his lips alone made her brain short circuit though and she worried she was as clumsy as she felt.

_‘course I was…clumsy is my default setting…_

It was ironic, she thought, to be named ‘Grace’ but be completely devoid of it.

**B: You sitting in my lap…**

_Oh, lord…_

**B: The way you jumped when I kissed your neck…**

_Fuck…_

**B: I love touching you, doll xx**

**G: I…I love touching you too…and kissing you…**

**B: Am I gonna get a kiss tomorrow when I see you?**

**G: Yes…as many as you’d like…**

**B: Careful, doll, I’m a greedy man xx**

She felt unbearably warm and kicked back the covers.

**G: Are you?**

**B: Hate to break it to ya xx**

**G: Should I be concerned? Lol**

**B: Nah, of course not…**

**G: Feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming up…**

**B: ‘But’ nothin’, doll. I’m just a lucky man, getting to be with you and touch you…**

Grace licked her lips and squeezed her thighs together, suddenly far too warm for comfort. Her sweatpants, though baggy, felt too tight. Absentmindedly, she untied the laces at the waistband before typing her response to Bucky.

**G: I liked your hands on my thighs…**

It wasn’t a lie. It was painfully, overwhelmingly true.

_Fuck, Molly was right…why didn’t I jump him?_

She wished he was with her now, wished she could relieve the building, warm pressure between her legs.

When the seconds ticked by without a reply, she worried she’d gone too far, said too much. They’d only hung out once, was it too soon to be so flirty and open?

Her phone rang, his name on the screen above ‘incoming call’, and her heart skipped a beat.

Licking her lips, she answered his call, slowly bringing her phone to her ear.

“H-Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful,” he replied, voice low and husky.

“Thought we were texting,” she mumbled.

“We were,” he said, “but then you had to go and say you liked my hands on ya…”

She bit her lip.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he assured her, “just tell me where else you want me to touch you…”

Grace let out a shaky breath, able to picture his teasing grin in her mind.

“B-Bucky…”

“We’re just playing, doll. Doesn’t mean things need to go any faster between us then you want them to. Just wanna make you feel good…”

She took a slow breath, flicking her tongue over her tender lip as she thought on it.

Tomorrow they were just hanging out, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy this moment. In fact, it was probably a good way to get her feet wet…

Going from zero to a hundred in a single leap with him would likely wind up with 911 being called…

“Okay,” she said softly, “never done this before though…I don’t know where to start…”

“That’s okay, babydoll,” he soothed, “what are you wearing?”

She considered lying, but figured he’d be able to tell.

“Sweats and a tank top.”

“Panties?”

“White cotton, nothing fancy.”

“You got a bra on?”

“N-No.”

She heard him hum and wondered if he was touching himself.

The thought renewed the blooming warmth between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs closed, the pressure enough to send a little tremor through her body.

“Are…are you touching yourself?” she asked.

It was difficult to let the words leave her lips, but she reminded herself that he couldn’t see her. Spared the heart-racing weight of his gaze, she could speak more freely; her anxiety overshadowed by her rising desire.

He chuckled, the sound alone enough to soak the cotton fabric between her legs.

“Do you want me to be?”

Grace quickly nodded, fingers toying with the waistband of her sweats.

“Y-Yes…talk to me…please…”

He hummed, low and appreciative.

“Had to throw that ‘please’ in there? Okay, doll. You should know I’m naked already though.”

“Y-You are?”

“I like sleeping naked,” he breathed, “where do you want me to start, Grace?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“If you were here,” he began, “with me on my bed…where would you start?”

That helped and she closed her eyes, trying to picture him naked beside her.

Her cheeks flushed a deep, dark red and a little whisper of a whine left her.

“Don’t go making those sounds, doll,” he cautioned, tone damn near predatory.

“’m sorry,” she mumbled quickly, “I guess…I’d start with kissing you…”

A moan, and then…

“Keep going, babydoll…”

Invigorated, she continued.

“I love how soft your lips are,” she admitted, “but your skin is so warm, I’d…I’d kiss along your jaw…down your neck…”

“Would you now?”

She nodded quickly, licking her lips.

“Yeah…”

“Would you kiss my stomach?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Way too good to me, baby,” he mumbled, “wiggle those sweats down. Want them off you…”

She quickly did as he said, caution officially thrown to the wind.

“Off?”

“Yes, Bucky…”

“Good girl,” she heard him give a light, low hiss, “leave those panties on for now. Lift up your tank top, doll.”

“Uh…u-up?”

“Yeah, sweetheart…up over those beautiful tits…”

She sucked in a tight breath, doing as he said and shaking as the cool air hit her soft skin.

In gaining weight, her breasts had gotten larger. She didn’t like the sag of them, but now, in the moment with his honey-sweet voice in her ear, she didn’t care.

“Done?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl…want to know where I’d start?”

“Y-Yes…please…”

He groaned and she bit her lip.

“I’d start with your lips, kissing you till you’re whining for more.”

Grace gave a little gasp and he chuckled.

“Sound good?”

“Y-Yes…”

“You okay if I kiss your neck? Maybe go lower?”

“Bucky…y-yes…”

“Lick your fingers, baby.”

“W-What?”

“Two fingers, babydoll, past those sweet lips of yours…suck on them.”

Tentatively, she did as he said, sucking on her pointer and middle finger until the tips were slick with her saliva.

He must have heard the soft pop of her fingers leaving her lips, as he continued in his direction.

“Touch your nipples, baby girl,” he gave a low moan, “want ‘em hard.”

She did as he said, whimpering as her slick fingers traced circles around her nipple, coaxing it to a point before moving to her other.

“Bucky,” she breathed, head spinning, “B-Buck…”

“Good, doll?”

“Y-Yes…fuck…”

“Think my lips would feel better?” he pressed, “my tongue?”

She pinched her nipple and whined.

“That a yes?”

Panting, she found her voice.

“Y-Yes…Bucky…are y-you…?”

“Hard?” he chuckled, though she heard strain in his voice, “yeah, baby, I am.”

Overwhelmed, she arched her back and gave a low, contented sigh.

“Can I touch myself, Grace?” he asked, voice tight.

“Y-Yes…”

A shaky, low moan left him, and she pictured him, sprawled out naked in all his glory, strong hand reaching down to –

Bucky cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, Grace…”

“Feel good?” she dared ask.

He mumbled something that sounded like ‘fuck yes’, and she smiled.

“Would…would my hand feel better?” she questioned, eyes falling close as she squeezed her breast.

“Damn, babydoll,” he hissed, “f-fuck…”

Without his bidding, she slipped her hand down under the waistband of her panties, sighing as she slipped a finger between her slick folds.

_Holy fuck…_

The thought that if he could see her, he’d love it, crossed her mind and she moaned; shocked the lewd thought entered her mind at all.

“What are you doing, doll?” he asked between tight gasps.

“T-Touching myself,” she admitted, “B-Buck…”

“Where, baby? Tell me where your fingers are…”

“Under my panties,” she admitted in a single, desperate breath, “f-fuck…”

“Tug those panties down, baby.”

She quickly did as he said, tossing them aside.

“Spread your legs and put the phone on speaker, okay?”

Legs spread, she fumbled to put her phone on speaker but somehow managed.

“D-Done,” she assured him, setting her phone by her side on the bed.

“Good girl. You gonna listen closely, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” she assured him in a sharp gasp.

“Good. Finger that pretty clit, baby. Wanna hear you…”

Desperate for relief, she eagerly obliged him, dipping a hand down between her legs. She whined as she pressed her fingers to her clit and rocked against them, creating a beautiful pressure that rolled over her in waves.

Legs squeezed tight, she arched her back and pressed into her touch, chasing her pique.

“G-Grace,” he gasped her name, “talk to me, baby doll…”

She threw back her head and keened, pressing her free hand to her breast and pinching her nipple hard.

“I-It’s good, Buck…so good…”

He groaned.

“How wet are ya, baby?”

Fingers dipping down to sweep up and down her slit, Grace blushed fiercely as it hit her just how profound an effect he was having on her.

She was soaked.

Positively dripping…

_His fingers would slide right in…_

“S-so…so…wet, Bucky…”

She could hear him, the muted slap of each thrust into his hand…

She wished she could see him.

_He must look gorgeous when he’s touching himself…_

“W-wish you were here, Buck,” she admitted, voice tight as her fingers returned to her clit, “B-B-Bucky…”

“I know, baby,” he gasped, “’m close too…”

She couldn’t speak, but he was right, she was close.

“Spread your legs wide, baby,” he managed through gritted teeth, “nice and wide for me…”

She did, digging her heels into the mattress and pressing down against her fingers.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck…_

Grace cried out, hand leaving her breast to grasp the fabric of her sheets.

“Good girl,” he praised, “cum for me, baby…”

That was all it took.

His sinfully deep, sweet voice tipped her over the edge, and she keened, crying out loudly as her orgasm hit her hard.

As she trembled, she heard a sharp moan leave him and knew he’d found his release as well.

“Fuck,” she breathed between deep, gasping breaths, “B-Bucky…”

She wished he was with her, wished she could cuddle up to him as she came down from her high…

But he wasn’t. She was alone in her big house and he was…well, he was wherever it was he lived.

She rolled over, wiping her fingers on the fitted sheet of her bed before grabbing her phone. She took it off speaker and brought it to her ear.

“You still with me?” she asked, mouth uncomfortably dry.

His panting breaths were her only answer.

“Buck?” she tried again, a giddy grin on her lips.

“’m here,” he said, laughing lightly, “fuck, doll…”

“I know…”

There were a few minutes of silence as they both caught their breaths and Grace was surprised by the intimacy of it. They weren’t even together but it felt more raw and real then anything she’d ever felt before.

_Maybe its just the high of my first orgasm in…well…a long time…_

That made sense, she figured.

“You okay?” he questioned, voice wavering some.

She smiled, realizing that she really was.

When she saw him later, she might be a blushing and awkward mess, but for now…

For now, she just felt amazing.

“’m perfect,” she whispered, “you?”

She heard his smile in his voice.

“Good,” a pause, “messy but good.”

Grace laughed.

“’m glad you texted me.”

“Hmmm, me too, doll.”

He sounded tired.

“Clean up and go to bed, handsome,” she said, smiling brightly, “don’t want you falling asleep all messy.”

“Wanna keep talking to you,” he mumbled, tone almost petulant.

It was insanely adorable.

“We’ll see each other in a few hours.”

“Will I get a kiss?”

“Yes,” she assured him, “as many as you want.”

“Will you be blushin’?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh, “definitely. Bright red. Might not answer the door. Might just hide in my closet and never come out.”

Bucky groaned, “No…don’t do that.”

“Think ‘embarrassment’ has ever been ruled a cause of death?” she asked, only half teasing.

She heard rustling sheets and figured he was shifting on his bed.

“Doll, listen to me,” he said softly, “don’t ever be embarrassed about feeling good. Ever. You hear me?”

She hesitated, but finally gave a less then convincing ‘sure’.

“Grace, I mean it,” he continued, “doing this doesn’t mean anything more than kissin’ has to happen later today; you hear me? There’s no rush, no timeline, with us – okay?”

“You’re sure?”

“A hundred percent. I’m happy doing whatever, as long as it’s with you.”

It was so sickeningly sweet, she wished he was there just so she could pinch his cheek.

“You’re a strange man, Bucky,” she finally said.

He laughed and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Guilty.”

“Go to bed, Bucky.”

“You first,” he countered.

“Bucky…”

He sighed.

“Fine, I suppose going to sleep just gets me closer to seeing you and snagging that kiss…”

A dork.

He was a complete dork.

Strange, but a total dork, nonetheless.

“Sleep tight, handsome,” she whispered.

“You too, beautiful,” he whispered back.

* * *

**Brooklyn, NY**

Bucky groaned as she hung up, letting his phone fall to the bed and tossing aside the t-shirt he’d used to wipe himself clean.

Of all the outcomes he thought of before texting her goodnight, that was by far the last he expected.

But it only reinforced what he already suspected.

He was wrapped tight around her finger.

Draping his arm over his face, Bucky groaned as it hit him.

_I’m wholly and truly fucked…_


	8. The Bucket List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Grace get to know each other, and Grace takes a major step in getting her life back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another big chapter for you all to enjoy!
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind comments and kudos that have been left - you are all so great! It really means so much to me each time I get that alert a comment has been left!

**Manhattan, NY**

Grace slept well, but still had a hard time waking up when her alarm went off.

_Why were alarms always annoying regardless of the chime selected?_

With an exaggerated groan, she dragged herself to her closet and lazily searched for something to wear.

As the fog of sleep slowly lifted from her mind; her thoughts gravitated to Bucky.

She really was nervous at the thought of seeing him later, but not as much as she thought she would be.

Their intimate talk the night before had been a first for her. She’d never done anything like that with Max, and in truth she had never understood the appeal or how it could be sexy.

It was just talking - how could a phone call be sexy?

Bucky had shown her how wrong she was.

It was the single most intimate experience she’d had with a man, and he hadn’t even been there to touch her. It made the idea of ‘more’ with him even more appealing…something she didn’t think was possible.

Grace stripped, tossing her clothes into the overflowing hamper in the corner.

She chose a nude colored bra and black panties she’d bought while out shopping with Molly to prepare for her first date with Bucky. They were expertly crafted of silk and lace, she thought they looked great on her despite her flaws.

Grace picked out a thin long-sleeved white shirt with a ‘v’ neckline that was low enough she’d typically wear it with a camisole underneath. She looked at herself in the mirror and decided to forgo the camisole today.

She briefly considered wearing shorts but decided with the low-cut top it was too much and went for ‘old reliable’ – a pair of comfortable leggings.

After brushing her hair, she hurriedly made her bed and headed downstairs to tidy up. She had meant to after Molly left but had been too eager for a shower and bed - which left tidying the kitchen and cleaning up the board games still spread across the coffee table to today.

She turned on the sound system as she filled the kitchen sink with soapy water, smiling as Eric Clapton’s voice filled the room.

She owed the wide range of music queued up on her playlist to her dad. Thanks to him, she liked a little bit of everything. Pop, punk, rock…there was even some heavier stuff sprinkled in.

But there were a few artists she couldn’t hear without thinking of him…

Bruce Springsteen, Eric Clapton, CCR, the Ramones…

He used to blast them all as he worked away in his office when she was young, taking breaks here and there to dance around with her like they were both idiots…

She missed those stupid dances.

As she cleaned, humming along to ‘Layla’ and thinking of how her dad used to sing along despite her protests, she thought of her childhood dog and wondered why she hadn’t gotten one when she moved, as she had intended.

But as she thought on it, she realized there was a lot she wanted to do but didn’t.

Maybe now, when she was trying to get her life straightened out and had Bucky to drag along, it was time to remedy that…

It sparked an idea, and she quickly finished up and hurried into the living room. She dug through one of the baskets under the end tables, and smiled in triumph as she found the small, tattered notebook she recalled shoving in there months ago.

She tore out the first few pages, not really caring what was on them, found a pen and started writing.

* * *

Bucky slipped his phone from the pocket of his bomber jacket, quickly checking the time before tucking it back.

_5:35pm…_

He felt like he was late, despite Sam having been early picking him up, and swallowed hard as he rang the doorbell.

He’d spent an hour figuring out what to wear before deciding on jeans, a dark sweater, and the bomber jacket he’d found at Hugo Boss with Natasha. Steve had assured him he looked fine, but he had fidgeted with the sweater’s hem the entire drive.

Bucky heard the chime echo beyond the door and tensed as it faded away.

Had she caved and gone to hide in the closet, as she’d teased?

Shifting nervously on his feet, he adjusted the ribbon wrapped around the bouquet of flowers he held.

He’d spent more time at the flower shop then he meant to, but he hadn’t expected picking flowers to be so complicated.

When _had_ it become so complicated?

He thought he knew what he wanted, but the wall of options he’d been confronted with left him overwhelmed.

Orchids?

No, not fancy enough.

Hydrangeas?

Well, he hadn’t known what they’d been called, but he wasn’t a fan of them.

Lilies?

Maybe…

Red roses?

Too easy, too basic.

In the end, with the guidance of a very patient saleswoman, he decided to go for a twist on the old classic – long-stemmed lavender roses with waxflowers.

He hadn’t known ‘waxflowers’ were a thing, but he liked the way they looked with the roses.

He only hoped Grace liked them too.

Bucky heard hurried footsteps approaching just as he considered ringing the doorbell again.

He hadn’t been able to think of anything other than Grace since their phone call the night before. The second he’d heard her voice, everything he said to Steve earlier in the day went out the window.

The distance he needed?

Gone - evaporated the moment she gave a soft, barely contained moan.

His hesitancy to let her touch him?

Dismissed; cast aside as impossible.

His fear of things getting complicated or messy?

Forgotten entirely.

He smiled as he heard her fumbling with the locks, his smile growing as she opened the door and their eyes met.

“Hi, Bucky.”

“Hey, doll,” he said as she stepped into the vestibule to unlatch the security gate, “you look so beautiful.”

She really did. Her hair looked so soft, her eyes bright and inviting. He was eyeing her pretty, pouty lips when he finally realized how low the ‘v’ of her shirt was and swallowed hard.

_Focus, Barnes. The last thing you need is her catching you ogling her…_

She finally seemed to realize he was holding a bouquet and gave a soft gasp.

“Oh, Bucky!” she sighed, smiling, “you didn’t have to…”

She stepped closer, reaching out to graze her fingers over the waxflowers, a light blush on her cheeks.

_God…she is beautiful…_

“I disagree,” he spoke, unable to look away from her, “’m sorry, doll.”

She was too sweet, too good and perfect not to touch.

He kept his gaze on her face to gauge her reaction as he slipped his free arm around her. When she showed no sign of discomfort and didn’t tense as he touched her, he lifted her up as he hugged her.

Grace squealed, clinging to his shoulders as her feet left the concrete step.

“Bucky!”

He pressed his lips to her cheek.

“But pretty girls deserve pretty flowers,” he mumbled against her skin, smiling as she sighed.

“You beautiful, wonderful dork,” she said, laughing.

He lowered her gently, and she accepted the flowers with a warm, appreciative look.

“Thank you,” she said, taking deep breath of their sweet scent, “come on in.”

He followed her and Grace waved to Sam before closing the door.

Once she had locked up, she turned to him, looking at him with dark, doe-eyes as she smelled the one rose that had opened into a full bloom.

As he watched her, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket, suddenly nervous and eager to hide it from her.

“Did I do okay?” he asked, smirking, “I only realized once I was in the flower shop that I didn’t know your favorite flower.”

She shrugged.

“Don’t have a favorite.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“It’s always nice to get flowers, regardless of what kind they are,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “honestly…you could give me dandelions and I’d probably still be a giddy, smiling idiot.”

He laughed.

“Noted, doll.”

Grace gave him a sheepish look, carefully setting the flowers down on the small foyer table. She bit her lip as she approached him and the fact that she was undoubtedly clueless as to how irresistible she looked in that moment, made her even more amazing.

“Grace…”

She touched his chest, fingers grazing down the unzipped jacket before she slipped her arms under the material to hug him.

His chest tightened as her cheek pressed to his sternum.

“Thank you for coming over tonight,” she muttered, kissing his chest and looking up at him, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Happy to be here, babydoll” he said truthfully.

She kissed his chest again before slipping from him to fetch her flowers.

“I had meant to go grocery shopping,” she spoke, “but I…kind of didn’t. Is it okay if we just order pizza or something?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, looking back at him with uncertainty.

“Positive,” he said with a laugh, “I don’t come over for the food, Grace.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then why do you come over?” she asked coyly, making to step past him.

He smirked, stopping her by lightly touching her hip.

“To see my beautiful, good girl,” he stepped behind her, hugging her, “dunno how its possible to miss you so bad, baby…”

It was the truth, plain and raw, whether she knew it or not.

And he’d put money on her not knowing it.

_Makes saying it easier…_

One dinner date and a single night at her place, and he was wrapped so tight around her finger it startled him.

As he thought on it, burying his face in the crook of her neck, he tried to assure himself it was because of how important she was to ensuring Rebecca’s care continued.

_That’s it, has to be._

He kissed her neck, heart racing as she relaxed in his arms and sighed.

“I-I…”

He chuckled, kissing lazily up her neck and savoring the shivers he felt shake her.

“You?” he prompted in a husky whisper.

“I dunno…I…” she managed, voice tight, “I missed you too though…”

He tightened his embrace, nipping her shoulder before reluctantly letting go.

She looked frustrated and he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Come on, babydoll,” he took her hand, “let’s get comfy.”

They headed downstairs and Bucky searched Netflix as Grace put the flowers in a vase.

“What’re you in the mood for, Grace?” Bucky asked, focus fixed on the seemingly endless list of programs Netflix offered, “you got a favorite rom-com?”

She laughed from the kitchen, and he looked to her quickly, confused.

“You assume I like rom-coms?”

_Fair point…_

“Rude of me, I know. Sorry, doll.”

She approached with two beers, handing him one as she sat on the arm of the couch.

“Don’t apologize, you dork. I like some rom-coms, but they’re few and far between. Most are just the same story re-hashed a dozen times.”

“What do you like?” he asked, setting down his beer and shirking off his jacket to drape it over the back of the couch.

Grace shrugged, “Action, fantasy, historical fiction, crime…”

_Huh…_

“Horror?”

She grimaced.

“Suspense and thrillers? Yes. Gore-fests like ‘Saw’? Not my cup of tea. You?”

“Same,” he answered, “’Saw’ is too gruesome for my liking.”

He scrolled downward and Grace reached out, taking the remote from him as she sat down on the couch.

“Have you seen ‘Lucifer’?” she asked, selecting it from the catalogue, “its about the devil coming to earth! He runs a nightclub and works with the LAPD to solve murders! It’s so funny and such a cool twist on the usual cut-and-dry crime series!”

Her enthusiasm was adorable and refreshing. He wondered how long it had been since she felt that…

“I haven’t,” he sat next to her, opening his beer, “you like it?”

She nodded quickly.

“I watched the first two seasons in like, a day and a half,” she blushed, “which is a little sad, but it’s just that good!”

“You okay re-watching it?”

“Of course!”

She got it running, setting her phone on the coffee table, and he watched her from the corner of his eye as she used the hem of her shirt to help her grip the bottle cap and twist it off.

He had just been about to offer to open it for her and scolded himself for assuming she couldn’t.

_Fuck…why is every god-damn thing she does adorable?_

They sat in comfortable silence as the intro played. Grace had curled up next to him, getting even closer when he rested his arm along the back of the couch.

She felt good against him.

The first two minutes of the first episode had him intrigued, and by the time it ended he was eager for more.

Grace had been right, it was funny.

They had just finished the second episode when his stomach growled so loud it overshadowed the outro, causing Grace to slowly look up at him, her amusement evident.

Bucky cleared his throat.

“Sorry…”

“Thought you weren’t here for the food?”

“’m not,” he insisted, voice low, “promise.”

“Sure,” she said, touching his stomach lightly, “well I suppose I should feed you before the monster in your stomach gets angry.”

“It’s not that loud,” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“I think my neighbors heard it.”

“Baby…”

She laughed and he touched her chin, guiding her to look up.

“So mean, laughing at me…”

He saw her dark eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips and back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her teasing tone gone as the energy between them shifted, “Bucky –

“Don’t be,” he brushed his thumb under her bottom lip, licking his lips as he watched her, “it’s good to hear you laughin’…”

He dipped down, kissing her softly.

_Sweet lord…_

The hint of beer on her lips added to his hunger and he deepened the kiss, nipping her bottom lip and sighing as she gasped and allowed him access. His tongue grazed hers and she practically purred.

When they parted for air, Bucky looked into her eyes and slowly shifted her so she was sitting astride his lap.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” he praised, rubbing the tops of her thighs as he moved to kiss her again, “fuck, baby girl…can’t keep my hands off ya…”

Blushing, she rocked forward, eager to get as close to him as possible, and they kissed.

He moaned against her lips, amazed by the feel of her.

She seemed to be similarly affected, and her fingers traveled up from his shoulder and into his hair.

It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Grace,” he breathed as their lips parted, “baby…”

Bucky didn’t think he could ever tire of her kisses.

“Didn’t think kisses could be so good till you,” she admitted in a breathless whisper, “how do you do it?”

He chuckled, hugging her to him.

“I just wanna to kiss you like you deserve,” he kissed her collarbone, lips lingering against her skin.

“B-Bucky…”

“Where do you want my lips, doll?” he dared to ask, tongue flicking teasingly up her neck, “tell me, Grace, and I’ll give ya what ya want…”

She whimpered.

“Anything, whatever you want,” he promised, “’m here for you, babydoll…”

As she stammered, overwhelmed by all she was feeling, her ability to speak seemed to have abandoned her.

But, fuck, Bucky wanted her.

He licked his lips.

“Grace…”

Bucky’s stomach reminded them what pulled their attention from the show.

Grace laughed hard into the crook of his neck, and he couldn’t help but echo her.

She continued after he composed himself though and he blushed.

“Baby girl, breathe,” he soothed, rubbing her back as she laughed.

_Great…almost killed her last time; looks like we’re going for a repeat…_

She touched his cheek as she struggled to compose herself and he sneaked a quick peak to her palm, his cheeks still red and warm.

“I’m so sorry,” she looked up at him, tears of pure amusement in her eyes, “Bucky, I really am!”

“Then stop laughing,” he countered ruefully, making to tickle her sides.

She tried to swat his hands away.

“Not helping!”

“Oops.”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes, “let me call in our order.”

She tried to reach her phone on the coffee table, and he held her securely as she stretched back, managing to snag it.

“Ah-ha!” she righted herself and pulled up Google, “what do you want?”

“Pizza is fine,” he assured her, rubbing her sides.

He felt her tense under his hands, and he rested them on the tops of her thighs, not wanting to make her uncomfortable in any way.

“I like ‘Mancini’s’,” she said, focus still on her phone.

“Then I’m sure I will.”

She turned the phone to him, letting him look at their menu.

They ultimately decided on the ‘Super’ – her favorite.

With the order called in, she sat her phone down on the couch beside them.

To his delight, she made no move to slide from his lap.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, fingers returning to his hair.

He moaned softly, nodding.

“What’s your last name?”

_Oh…_

He didn’t realize he hadn’t told her.

“Barnes.”

“Barnes,” she repeated, testing it on her tongue, “James Buchanan Barnes…your parents must have had high hopes for you, naming you after a president.”

“Never thought of it like that,” he admitted, “what’s your middle name?”

“Elizabeth.”

“That’s pretty.”

“Pretty unoriginal,” she corrected, “don’t think mom and dad put much thought into it.”

“Nah, its pretty, promise,” he winked at her, “Grace Elizabeth…”

“I like the sound of it better when you say it,” she admitted quietly.

A thought crossed his mind.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Bucky.”

“Do you like Star Wars or Star Trek better?”

“Uh, pardon?”

“Its an important question,” he said, gaze downcast as he toyed with the detailing on her leggings, “humor me.”

She sighed, taking a moment to consider it.

“Star Wars, I think. If only because the original movies have such stay-power. I mean, ‘Return of the Jedi’? Come on, its iconic.”

_How the fuck does this girl not have a steady guy?_

“Good answer.”

“Favorite Disney movie?” she questioned.

He groaned.

“Hitting me with the hard questions, doll.”

She smirked, kissing his chin.

“Fine,” he conceded, “but only cause you asked so nicely.”

She awaited his answer with bated breath.

“The Little Mermaid,” he said finally, “it was the first movie I saw in theatres.”

His mom had to scrape together the money but managed in time for its release. She had been heavily pregnant with his sister, Rebecca, at the time but she had loaded him and his two sisters onto the bus that afternoon. She’d even managed to afford them a big bag of popcorn to share.

It was one of his fondest childhood memories.

That his father wasn’t there didn’t hurt either.

“One of my favorites too,” she said with a fond smile.

He gathered from her look she had a good memory attached to it too.

“But I love ‘Beauty and the Beast’.”

“Also a good choice,” he affirmed.

“’The Emperor’s New Groove’ is a close second though.”

He pursed his lips.

“Hmm, never saw it.”

She sat back and looked at him, brow arched, and he gathered he’d offended her on some level.

“Sorry, doll, I –

“Have missed out on a great movie,” she finished, pinching his chin, “we’ll have to watch it together.”

“I’d like that,” he said, a dopey grin plastered on his lips he couldn’t hide if he tried, “when is your birthday?”

He knew the answer, but felt it was the sort of thing to ask given they were playing twenty questions.

“May 14th, you?”

“March 10th.”

Her fingers left his chin, trailing down his neck and settling at the collar of his sweater.

“Good, I’ve got time to figure out a birthday present for you,” she paled, “fuck, Christmas…”

Her expression made him smile, but so did her admission she planned to keep him around that long. It was reassuring.

“You don’t have to get me anything, Grace.”

“I do,” she said firmly, “I want to.”

He smiled and quickly thought of another question.

“DC or Marvel?”

Grace gave an exaggerated groan.

“Gonna make me choose, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

She ran her fingers along the collar of his sweater as she thought.

“Frig…I don’t know…”

“Go with your gut,” he suggested, “don’t overthink it.”

She sighed heavily, her breath flicking up a stubborn strand of her hair that had fallen forward.

“I guess…if you’re gonna be an ass and make me choose…”

He grabbed her hand from his collar and brought it up to lazily kiss her fingers.

“I’m an ass now?”

She nodded, though her expression was full of mirth.

“Yes, undoubtedly.”

He nipped her thumb, savoring the little jump of surprise it pulled from her.

“Marvel, then,” she relented, gaze fixed on his lips, “but I have a soft spot in my heart for Batman. Can’t help it.”

“Why Batman?” he asked, curious.

She grazed her thumb over his bottom lip.

“He was my dad’s favorite superhero,” she explained, “he used to make my brother and I sit and watch the old Adam West series. I think he liked him so much because he figured Batman was just a guy with ideals and the money and drive to back them…what about you?”

“Marvel,” he said without hesitation, “I don’t fault you your love of Batman though.”

She beamed, the soft look in her eyes making his heart race.

_Fuck…she’s so beautiful when she’s happy…_

“I’ve got another one.”

She nodded.

“Shoot.”

“What’s your favorite ride at Coney Island?”

Grace paused a moment, before ultimately shrugging.

“No idea, haven’t been in years.”

It was his turn to look offended.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she nudged him, lips twisted in a nervous smirk.

“We’re going,” he declared, decided, “before it closes for the season. You’re missing out, doll.”

“Am I now?”

“You are!”

He stole a quick kiss.

“I’ve got another question for ya,” he began, “but it might make you blush…”

She bit her lip, but the happy, relaxed look remained in her eyes.

“‘cause I haven’t blushed enough tonight,” she breathed, shaking her head, “ask away…”

He grabbed her hands, threading his fingers between hers.

“How many men have you been with?”

He was immediately hit by her strong nervous energy and regretted asking the question, as necessary as it may have been.

Bucky knew she was inexperienced, but she’d not disappointed him yet and if he was being honest, he didn’t think she could. She might be unsure of herself, but she was sweet and sexy. Their phone call the night before would be etched in his mind for a long time to come.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, gaze fixed on their interlocked fingers.

“What, doll?”

She shrugged.

“How out of my element I am?” she pursed her lips, her body tense, “how clumsy I am?”

He realized she wasn’t just embarrassed; she was downright ashamed.

_Way to go, Barnes…_

With a heavy heart, he hurried to reassure her.

“Doll, look at me.”

She took a few deep breaths before acquiescing, glancing up at him from under her dark lashes.

“I meant what I said last night,” he began, “and I mean it now. Never be afraid to feel good with me. And never, ever be embarrassed to be honest with me.”

He kissed her knuckles.

“You’ve got to be honest, so I can be sure I’m giving you what you need without making you uncomfortable or upset.”

She chewed frantically at the inside of her cheek, clearly not convinced.

Bucky couldn’t let that stand.

“You, Grace Elizabeth, are not clumsy,” he stated matter-of-factly, hopefully leaving no room for debate, “please, babydoll, please believe me…”

He felt her relax some, and she cautiously made to reply.

He waited patiently.

“M-My high school sweetheart, Robbie,” she swallowed hard, “and Max. So…two. I’ve…I’ve only had sex with two men…”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat.

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?” Grace scoffed, “kind of feels sad…I just…”

Again, Bucky waited.

“I’ve just always been so anxious,” she admitted, “it’s always been hard…meeting guys and talking to them. I’m awkward and quiet…and I’ve always had a hard time keeping the weight off…”

There was a silence and she made to get off his lap.

He stopped her.

“If you’re moving ‘cause you think you’re too heavy, don’t,” he whispered, cupping her face in his hands, “Grace…”

“I’m sorry,” she bit her lip, “this is stupid…”

The doorbell rang and Grace sniffled, slipping from his lap.

He reluctantly let her.

“I’ll be right back.”

She scurried up the stairs and Bucky was grateful for the breather to collect himself.

He shouldn’t be surprised by her doubt in herself, but it was still jarring to hear her express it.

She wasn’t model-thin, but he didn’t think she needed to be. In all honesty, he liked her soft curves…enjoyed how she felt against him…

She came downstairs carrying their pizza and made straight for the kitchen.

Bucky got up and followed.

“Grace –

“It’s okay,” she opened the box and dug through a drawer for the pizza cutter, “forget about it.”

“No, ain’t gonna happen,” he rounded the island to approach her, “can’t leave you thinking you’re not good enough…”

She looked down at the pizza as though it was the most interesting thing in the room.

He knew she felt guilty then, for ordering the pizza, for eating in front of him to begin with.

Sighing, he touched her hips, slowly turning her to face him.

The pizza could wait, she needed to know how wrong she was.

She looked up at him, fearful and confused, sucking in a tight breath when he effortlessly lifted her up to sit on the island.

Bucky stood between her legs, his arms loose around her waist.

“Grace Elizabeth Kinsley, you are so fucking beautiful.”

She huffed.

“You’re not clumsy,” he promised her, “baby, I wasn’t faking our call last night. Never been so hard in my life…”

It was true.

He kissed along her jawline, smiling inwardly when she relaxed some.

“And I like kissing you so much,” he gave her a light peak, “and touching you…fuck…”

As his lips met her neck, she swallowed hard.

“Really?”

Her voice was a whisper, and her vulnerability shook him.

“Really,” he smirked, “fuck…baby, you got no idea…”

“I…I liked our talk last night too,” she admitted in a shaky voice.

He didn’t have any doubts, but it was still good to hear.

“Good,” he pulled back and flicked his thumb across her chin, “and don’t worry ‘bout being inexperienced, doll…it just means you and I can have fun figuring out what you like.”

Her eyes revealed the effect he was having on her.

_No poker face…ain’t so bad…_

“That…is one way of looking at it,” she said with a small, nervous laugh, “but –

“No ‘buts’, Grace. I’m here as long as you want me, and I promise I _want_ to be here.”

He kissed her, pouring every ounce of his desire and want for her into it.

_Can’t have her doubtin’ herself…_

She draped her arms over his shoulders as she sank into it.

He paused, parting to touch her chin.

Their lips were tantalizing close.

“Let me kiss you like you deserve,” he pleaded, gently easing her chin down so her lips parted, “wanna make you feel so good, babydoll…”

It was risky, being so forward. He’d meant what he said when they first met, that the ball was in her court as far as how far and how fast they went. But he knew she needed the reassurance, needed to know he felt the same longing she did.

And if kissing her breathless did the trick, he was happy to oblige.

He gave a little lick of her bottom lip before his tongue met hers.

Grace gave a sharp whimper as she dug her fingers into his back.

He pulled her close.

It was easy enough to lose himself in her, in the soft but eager movement of her lips against his…

_‘m fucked…completely fucked…_

But with her lips on his, it didn’t seem so bad.

They parted, and she gave a shaky chuckle.

“W-Wow…”

“Just what I was thinking, baby girl,” he kissed the corner of her mouth and his stomach grumbled again.

With a groan, he rested his head on her shoulder in defeat.

Grace laughed, her fingers raking through his hair as she spoke.

“Let’s get some pizza in you before the monster in your tummy makes an appearance.”

“Like the alien busting out of that guy’s chest in ‘Alien’?” he asked playfully, lightly kissing her shoulder as he stood back to look in her eyes.

Grace shivered and quickly located the pizza cutter, shoving it at him.

“Get some in you before I’ve got that damn thing running all over my house!”

* * *

Bucky sat on the couch, groaning with his hand resting on his stomach.

“Oh, fuck…”

Stomach full to bursting of the best pizza he ever had, he seriously regretted wearing jeans.

_Too early for her to see the sweats though…_

“You going to make it?” Grace asked from her spot beside him, an amused look on her face.

He groaned long and low.

It was a bit dramatic but judging by the laugh it pulled from her it was well received.

“Just roll me out back and let me die,” he bemoaned, “its not a bad way to go…”

“Agreed.”

‘Lucifer’ was still playing, but he couldn’t be sure of what episode they were on. As he tried to piece it together, he caught glimpse of a notebook on the coffee table he’d not noticed before.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to it.

Grace seemed uneasy but gave him a strangely hopeful look as she snatched it up.

“I was thinking earlier today about why I didn’t get a dog when I moved out, like I wanted to,” she opened it but hesitated to hand it to him, “it made me think about all the other things I wanted to do but didn’t so…I made a list.”

“Like a bucket list?”

She nodded.

“Kind of. I like to think of it as a list of unfulfilled wishes I want to complete to get my life back on track…”

He watched her closely, gauging her before speaking.

“Can I take a look?”

She pointed her finger at him and gave a warning, albeit lighthearted, look.

“If you promise not to laugh, yes.”

He raised his hand to mimic the salute his boyhood friends used to do on the play yard.

“Scout’s honor, doll.”

She thought about it, features twisting as she considered it before ultimately handing it to him.

Bucky smirked at her before turning his focus to the page.

In tight, curly writing, Grace had started off her list –

**‘Grace’s List of Things to Do to Get Her Shit Together’:**

  1. **Clean the house and make it a home.**
  2. **Go grocery shopping – maybe Bucky will teach me how to cook?**
  3. **Get back into yoga – with Bucky?**
  4. **Clean out the penthouse – sell?**
  5. **Go back to school.**
  6. **Thank Molly for being so stubborn.**
  7. **Thank you gift for Natasha(?).**
  8. **Get a dog.**
  9. **Institute ‘Bucky Day’.**
  10. **Get a tattoo.**
  11. **Go to Croatia – find that beach Nate was always talking about.**
  12. **Put Max in his place – recruit Bucky as accomplice.**



He looked up at her with a grin that stretched ear to ear.

“This is really terrific, babydoll!”

She lit up at his words.

“Really?”

It really was. That she was setting goals was encouraging. That she had gone so far as to include him in some of them, reassured him further.

“Yeah, I’ve got a question though…”

“Shoot.”

“What is ‘Bucky Day’?”

She grabbed and squeezed his hand.

“A whole day where I spoil the fuck out of you,” she declared cheerfully, “we can go to the spa, go down to Fifth…”

He gave a snort of laughter.

“Buy you pretty things,” she shifted to her knees and rested her chin on his shoulder, “anything you want – it’s your day.”

She didn’t have to, but Bucky knew she knew that. So he swallowed his desire to tell her it was too much, too generous, and squeezed her hand.

“Way too good to me, babydoll…”

She bit her lip.

“Only cause your good to me…”

The bizarre, intense look in her eyes alarmed him and he pulled her close to escape it. If she suspected his discomfort, she gave no indication. Instead, she tucked herself close to his side.

_Phew!_

“Can we add one more to the list?” he asked.

She nodded against him.

“Of course,” she said cheerfully, “we can add to it as we go. What were you thinking?”

“Coney Island,” he kissed the top of her head, “you and me. Gotta figure out what your favorite ride is, doll.”

She rested her hand on his stomach and he felt her sigh as she sank into him.

“Sounds perfect, Bucky.”

  1. **Go to Coney Island with Bucky – figure out what my favorite ride is.**



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Musings? :)
> 
> Also - Happy New Year! I hope 2020 is good to you all!


	9. High Stakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky helps his family, and reaches out to Grace when he hasn't heard from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn, I'm back! 8 months! I'm embarrassed! Frig, that was so not at all what I planned! I'm so sorry, guys!
> 
> If it's any consolation, I've decided to revamp my plans and make this story a tad longer, giving you more detail, more (eventual) smut, and ultimately an ending that is more complete :)
> 
> Anywho, thank you all for your patience and kind comments :) you're all the very best!

**Brooklyn, NY**

Bucky was abruptly pulled from his nightmare by the ringing of his phone. It was a blessing, he supposed; but he was so exhausted being roused from even a shitty sleep still sucked.

He pushed past the fog of confusion and irritation, rolled over with a groan and pawed blindly at his bedside table. He smacked his alarm clock and hit his ratty old lamp before realizing he needed to move closer.

_Jesus…fuck…who the hell…_

He quickly stopped himself. It was likely Grace, after all.

And just realizing that immediately extinguished his annoyance.

Their date only a couple of days ago had been terrific. She’d loved the flowers he’d chosen for her, had blushed sweetly at his words, laughed at his expense, and purred like a kitten when he kissed her. Even putting aside the fact that he’d embarrassed her when he’d asked about the men she’d been with; it had been perfect.

And, fuck, he wanted to kiss her again.

He grunted as his arm spasmed, sending a sharp pain up his bicep, but managed to inch his sore body closer to the edge of the bed.

_Almost…got it…_

He knocked over the half-full glass of water he’d sat there the night before, spilling it all over the worn carpet.

Cursing under his breath, he grabbed his phone and freed it from its charge cord with a rough tug. He rubbed his eyes as he rolled back and held his phone up as he tried to make out the name on the call display. But while he’d fully expected to see Grace’s name illuminated on the screen, another greeted him.

_Oh shit…_

He quickly accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Ma? What’s wrong?”

It was a little after 5am and while his mom had always been an early riser, she was well aware he wasn’t. That meant only one of two things – either a check had bounced, or something was wrong with Rebecca.

“I’m so sorry to wake you, dear,” his mother said softly, tone flustered and full of embarrassment, “I didn’t want to, but we’re in a bit of a jam here and –

“Is Becca okay?” he asked sharply as he sat up and flicked on his bedside lamp, “is it her meds? Is she –

“Breathe, Bucky,” she interjected, “she’s fine.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through his unkept hair.

“Sorry,” he realized his hand was shaking as he lowered his hand and grasped his knee, “what’s going on?”

His mom sighed heavily.

“Lou’s working this morning and Anna just got called into work a double, so I’ve got to keep an eye on the kids. Could you get Rebecca to and from chemo today?”

Bucky snatched a pair of jeans from the floor that were untouched by the spilt water.

“Yeah, no problem, what time does she have to be there?”

“9 o’clock,” she paused, “I’m so sorry for throwing this on you, dear. I just had to make sure I had someone to go with her. I can figure something else out if you’re working or busy today. Ingrid down the hall might be able to look after the kids while I –

“Ma, I’m free. I’ll take her. Don’t worry. Has everyone eaten or do you need me to bring something with me?”

“Oh no, dear, I’ve got some eggs and bread, the kids will be fine.”

“What about you?” he countered.

More times than he cared to count, he’d gone to visit them and found everyone eating…except for his mom. Even when he was able to stock their cupboards and fridge, she’d gotten into the habit of watching everyone eat and only taking some for herself if there were leftovers.

It pissed him off. She was a damn good mom. She had the patience of a saint and had tried to make things work with his father for far longer than she should have just so they’d have a dad around. And how had his father rewarded her efforts? By beating the shit out of her and stealing money to spend of drugs and booze.

And here she was now, crammed into a small apartment in a less than ideal neighborhood with her daughters - and her grandchildren – trying to ration what they had so it stretched as far as it could.

“Don’t worry about me, dear. I’m just fine.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, brow furrowed, as he chose his words. She was overwhelmed, likely exhausted, and undoubtedly stressed and in need of coffee…she didn’t need him being short with her.

She was doing her best.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that,” he said ultimately, “if you need something, tell me, ma. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on or what you guys need.”

She gave a short sigh.

Even without seeing her, he knew she was more rattled than she was letting on. It was early, so she’d likely not had time to tidy her hair or apply any of her old, expired makeup to try and look presentable. She’d have tidied herself up by the time he’d be at their door of course, ever careful Anna’s kids didn’t know the reality of the mess going on behind the scenes.

“I know, dear. I just…hate this. You should be able to live your life without this mess on your shoulders…”

“Don’t worry about me,” he soothed as he rifled through his dresser for a clean shirt, “I’ll hit the grocery store real quick and be by, okay?”

“Okay, dear, thank you.”

“It’s no problem, ma.”

“I love you.”

Bucky smiled.

She never did end a call without reminding him of that fact.

“Love you too.”

He ended the call and shoved his phone in his back pocket as he tugged on his shirt. After making sure he had his wallet, he dry-swallowed an extra strength Tylenol and stepped out of his bedroom.

The apartment was still dark and quiet except for the steady snoring coming from Steve’s room. Not wanting to wake his friend, he tread lightly down the hall to the kitchen. The smell of coffee in the air told him Wanda was up, and he was eager to get a cup to go before tackling the early morning madness of a New York morning.

Wanda was leaning against the counter as he rounded the corner, her hair a mess and her eyes heavy. She was wearing one of Steve’s shirts. It was long on her and acted more like a nighty than a shirt on her much smaller frame.

He smiled warmly at her in greeting, trying to dismiss the image of Grace in one of his shirts the sight of her conjured.

He and Grace weren’t Steve and Wanda.

Bucky knew he needed to smarten up and etch it into his mind.

“Morning,” Wanda grabbed another mug from the cupboard, “I thought you’d be sleeping in?”

“Me too. I’ll be taking mine to go, thanks.”

Wanda nodded, swapping the ceramic mug for a battered looking travel mug.

“Off to see your mystery woman?” she asked with a smirk.

Bucky chuckled.

“Nah, maybe later.”

_Hopefully later…_

“Going to help get my sister to and from her treatment today,” he continued, “then…well, we’ll see.”

Wanda nodded.

“It’s breast cancer, right? That your sister has?”

Bucky nodded tersely as he filled the travel mug.

Rebecca had been diagnosed after finding a small, seemingly innocuous lump in her left breast. She’d done everything right. She’d made an appointment right away to see a doctor, gone to the mammogram and followed up with the specialist. Then came the biopsy. Bucky had told her not to worry. They all had. She was young and otherwise healthy; it was probably just a cyst.

Only it wasn’t.

It was cancer.

And it was in both breasts.

One word. Six letters. Small, and yet so heavy it immediately and irrevocably changed their lives.

Becca moved out of her apartment and into their mother’s shortly after her first round of chemo. It was the right move to make. She’d been violently ill after that first treatment; she needed help. Anna was already living there with her kids after her husband bailed, taking their savings with him, which brought the total to five people living in a two-bedroom apartment.

Lou – Louise – had joined them about month later to help with expenses after that first massive hit to what little their mother had stashed away in her savings. She made six, and while her income did help cover the deficit Bucky had been scrambling to cover on his own, they were all living on top of each other.

It was hardly the best environment for a cancer patient, but it was the best they could all cobble together.

“Y-Yeah,” Bucky finally managed.

The worst part? Becca’s cancer was as aggressive as it got. Everything they did, everything she’d gone through…and there was still a chance she might loose her breasts. Even then, with her being as young as she was and with her type of cancer, there was the very real likelihood her cancer could come back.

And if it did…well…

Bucky tried not to think that far ahead.

“I’m sorry,” Wanda said softly, “Steve says she’s as stubborn as you are though…”

Bucky managed to tight chuckle.

“She’ll kick it to the curb, I’m certain,” Wanda squeezed his arm affectionately, “just don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he quickly added a bit of sugar to his coffee and screwed on the lid, “let Steve know what’s up, yeah? Don’t need him going all mother-hen on me…”

Wanda smiled.

“Will do, take care.”

* * *

Bucky dipped into the grocery store a few blocks from his apartment to grab a few essentials before heading to pick up Becca. Bread, milk, cereal, some meat from the deli, a bushel of apples, and a box of the little gummy fruit snacks his nephew liked to have in his lunchbox.

He made sure his phone was off vibrate just in case Grace did actually call or text and hurried to the subway.

His mom’s apartment wasn’t too far from his and Steve’s, but it was a bad time of day to be in a rush. Damn near everyone in the city was on their way to work, and the first train was full. He caught the second but had to stand.

When his stop came up less than thirty minutes later, and everyone filed out, he downed what remained of his coffee and hurried up onto the street. The apartment building took up the block and was one of the more well maintained in the neighborhood. Aside from peeling paint and an unreliable looking fire escape on the east side of the building, it wasn’t bad.

But when he stepped into the foyer, he noticed the elevator was down for repairs.

_Well, fuck…_

It wasn’t a problem for him, but Becca was weak and got winded easily.

He took the stairs two at a time until he made it to the fifth floor, grumbling curses at the building as he went.

About halfway down the hallway – which was lined with stained, worn carpet that had to be older than he was – was his mom’s unit. He smiled upon seeing the cheap, flowery wreath she’d hung on the door. He knocked, and over the sound of the kids carrying on, his mom called for him to come in.

Bucky stepped inside just as Lou was heading for the door. Her expression brightened some upon seeing him, but she hurried past him with a quick apology and a promise to talk later.

“Don’t mind her, she overslept,” his mother said with a warm smile as she came around the corner from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel, “good morning, dear.”

Kissing her cheek, he lifted the grocery bags up.

“Grabbed a few things. Do up a list for me, yeah? I’ll grab you some more later.”

If he didn’t hear from Grace, he’d have the afternoon free. After covering the cost Becca’s meds for the month and the five hundred dollars they were short for rent, he didn’t have too much left, but he knew the cupboards had to be barer than his mom was letting on.

He had a bit of room left on his credit card; he could swing a small load of groceries.

She nodded, and he noted her eyes were watery. Before he could press her on it, she grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen.

Anna was sitting at the small table with her kids – her eldest, Jimmy, who was just six, and Ruby, who had just turned three. She greeted him with a smile, accepting the hug he pulled her into and taking the bags from him as he took her seat.

Bucky smirked as Jimmy quickly chewed the mouthful of eggs he’d taken, his eyes bright and wide as he frantically tapped his arm.

“Buck-Buck! Are you gonna stay and play with us?”

“I’ve got to take your aunt to her appointment, bud, I’m really sorry. Why don’t you play with Ruby?”

Jimmy’s glee evaporated and Bucky hated himself for it. He was a good kid, kind and cooperative where his younger sister was wild and daring, but he worried about him, nonetheless. On one of his last visits, Anna had told him through tears that Jimmy had found some change in the apartment lobby and given it to her ‘to help’.

Bucky supposed it was naïve to hope Jimmy didn’t notice how difficult things were for them, but it still stung. He remembered being Jimmy’s age vividly. He’d recently seen his dad hit his mom for the first time and had started following her around like a shadow, desperate to protect her.

“Next time, handsome,” Anna said warmly, hoping to placate the youngster, “Buck-Buck has to take Becca to the doctor. You’re going to stay with Gram while I’m at work and when I get home we can go to the park, sound good?”

Jimmy nodded but ate the rest of his eggs with a pout on his lips.

“Bucky?”

He turned in his seat and saw Becca standing in the doorway to her room. She was practically swimming in the sweater she had on. The leggings she wore had once fit her perfectly, but she’d lost so much weight that they now hung loose on her. Hair from her eyebrows and eyelashes had fallen out months ago, and the beanie she wore covered her bald head.

She looked tired, but her smile seemed sincere, so he refrained from mentioning it. After all, the last thing she needed was for someone to tell her how much cancer had changed her.

“Hey, you good to head out?”

She hugged her sweater tight around herself and nodded.

As Bucky stood, his mom surprised him with a tight hug.

“Thank you, dear, really.”

“’s no problem,” he rubbed her back, “get that list together, alright?”

Ruby pulled her away, but she managed a quick nod before she went to refill the little girl’s cup.

When he and Becca stepped out into the hall, she hooked her arm with his and sighed heavily. She leaned into him, and he noticed her smile had faded.

“Thank you for this,” she mumbled, “I hate that we had to bother you…”

He knew how much she hated leaning on everyone for help. She’d lost all her independence with her cancer diagnosis.

“You’re not bothering me, Bec. Come on, the elevator’s down –

She groaned, rolling her head back like she did when she was a kid throwing a fit to get her way.

He smiled but stopped and moved to stand in front of her, crouching down some.

“Hop on.”

“Oh, thank god,” she braced herself on his shoulders and cautiously brought her legs up, “you’re amazing…”

His arms hooked under her legs, he jumped up a bit to make sure she wasn’t sitting too low on his back before continuing down the hallway.

When they were younger, he often gave her piggyback rides when they were all out playing. She couldn’t keep up with Lou or Anna very well, so he always stayed behind to walk with her. One day, he’d offered her a piggyback ride and had raced ahead of their sisters when she’d hoped on, beating them back home.

He still remembered how hard she’d laughed that day.

Becca wrapped her arms around his neck, and he was thankful she couldn’t see his face. It was alarming just how thin her arms were and how weak her hold on him was. She’d always been thin, but before cancer she’d been fit, healthy. Now she was a wisp of a thing. He guessed a stiff breeze might very well blow her away without someone to hold onto her.

“How’s Steve?” she asked as they stepped into the stairwell.

“Fine, working…hanging out with his girlfriend a lot…seems happy.”

“That’s good,” she rested her chin on his shoulder, “you seeing anyone?”

He shook his head.

If she knew what he was doing to pay the bills…to pay for her treatment…she’d hate herself.

And somehow that hurt more than the fear that she might hate him.

“Nah, just focusing on work,” he deflected, “keeping out of trouble.”

“Thank goodness,” she snickered, “now if only ma would believe that…”

_If only…_

“Tell her to keep her worryin’ for Jimmy and Ruby. Especially Jimmy…kid notices too much for his own good.”

He felt her breath against his neck as she nuzzled into him, likely hiding her face.

“I know…I fucking hate that…”

Bucky squeezed her leg, pausing on the second-floor landing to glance back at her.

“Hey, it’s not on you, Bec. He’s surrounded by people who love him, there are worse things.”

She knew that. Of course she did. She grew up in the same household, saw their dad go after their mom when he’d had a few too many; saw the shiner she often sported the next day as she walked them to school…

“I don’t want to be the reason he has bad memories of his childhood,” she whispered, her voice tight and hushed.

“Hey, stop that,” he said firmly, “it’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just life.”

She hummed and fell quiet, but he knew her too well to assume she was letting the issue go. No, he had money on her worrying over it all day.

He continued down the stairs, only setting her down when they were out on the sidewalk.

When he raised his hand to hail a cab, Becca grabbed his arm.

“We can take the subway, Bucky, really –

“You’re beat, we’re taking a cab.”

She clung to him as they waited, which mercifully wasn’t too long.

The second she slumped into the back seat; he knew he’d made the right call. She wasn’t having a good day and was probably going to sleep through her chemo session.

“See? Right call.”

The cabbie got their destination from him and eased back into traffic.

Becca leaned against his shoulder.

“Fine…you win.”

“I always win.”

She swatted him.

“Ass.”

He grabbed her hand, lightly squeezing it as she relaxed against him.

More than anything, Bucky wished he could take it from her. She was young, bright and full of potential. Cancer threatened all of that. She was constantly exhausted and her latest medication, which was thankfully showing promising results, gave her bone pain. Every little movement hurt.

“Don’t make me tell ma you were callin’ me names,” he teased, swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking away his tears quickly.

“Like you’d tell on me…”

Before he could reply, she was fast asleep.

* * *

**Manhattan, NY**

Grace couldn’t figure it out. Everything was going well – she was having fun with Bucky and the house had never been more well kept – but try as she might, she couldn’t find the energy to drag herself out of bed.

She rolled over, tugging the blankets along with her as she grabbed her phone from the corner of the bed. Neither Molly nor Bucky had texted her, but she couldn’t understand why it bothered her so much. She’d spoken with Molly earlier that day, and she’d just seen Bucky the other day…

_Fuck, I’m a needy mess…_

Her last date night with Bucky had been so wonderful, why was she so sad now?

He’d brought her flowers, sweet talked her, cuddled with her…what more did she need?

_I scared him away…what twenty-four-year-old has only been with two guys?_

The same one who paid an escort to hang out with her, so she didn’t succumb to loneliness, she figured.

_If only Max could see me now…_

She was pathetic. Worse yet, she was _fat_ and pathetic.

He said sex was on the table but…but would he really want to touch her? Maybe he just wanted to get as much money from her that he could?

Grace paled, wondering if they eventually tried and he couldn’t even get hard with her.

She was all soft. Her stomach was squishy, and her love handles weren’t cute. Maybe her larger bust would pique the interest of some men, but that was about the only thing she figured she had going for her.

She bit her lip to stop its quivering as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

A guy as amazing as Bucky wouldn’t want her if money wasn’t involved.

He deserved someone…someone like Max had found.

Gorgeous, curvaceous, flawless…

Perfect.

Her polar opposite, really.

She choked on a sob, breaking down in hysterics until she was nearly spent. Struggling to control her racing heart and shaking hands, she wiggled to the edge of the bed and rolled off.

She needed her razor blade, needed the numbness it brought; the calm.

Her focus fixed on it, she stumbled past her nightside table on her way to the washroom where she kept it, her precious.

She didn’t see her trusty plastic medication organizer – full and neglected for almost a week – tucked under her neglected book.

* * *

**Brooklyn Cancer Centre, Brooklyn, NY**

Becca had been assigned a good chair for her session. She had a view of the river, Manhattan bustling just across it.

But she was fast asleep, as Bucky had predicted.

He eyed the IV bag hanging from the pole next to her chair. It was covered by a yellow film to protect the contents from the light. Nearby, a cytotoxic sharps container sat, as well as a special receptacle for the linen she came into contact with. Her nurse had set a few things up at Becca’s station; including Gravol, water, and Ginger Ale. Bucky figured Becca would need it all before the session was over.

He let go of her hand slowly, not wanting to wake her, to pull out his phone.

Grace hadn’t texted and he wondered if maybe she had something going on that explained her silence.

It was beyond stupid to be so attached to her. As much as he might want to believe otherwise, it was business. He was a glorified man-whore. She was filthy fucking rich. If there was anything they really shared or had in common, it was the sexual tension that hung thick in the air when they were together.

Bucky looked at the IV bag. Each treatment lasted about three hours and put them in the hole about ten grand.

The stakes couldn’t he higher.

He had to steal his resolve, to buckle down and remind himself of the reality of what they were. Grace’s kisses and moans shouldn’t make him weak in the knees. She was sweet, yeah, but she was young and naïve, with piss-poor confidence and a broken heart. Getting the money he needed would be easy if he played it smart.

Bucky looked to Becca, her features soft and content in sleep.

She was why he was doing what he was.

Letting things get messy with Grace put everything in jeopardy and while he might be willing to risk that under normal circumstances, when the risk only came from him, Rebecca’s health was on the line.

He needed to smarten the fuck up; lay it on thick but maintain emotional distance, keep her wandering hands from his mangled arm, and never let her doubt his value.

Opening up their last text message, he typed.

**B: Mornin’ babydoll. I hope your day is going good so far. I miss you and your perfect kisses xx**

* * *

Grace sat on the tiled floor, her head in her hands as she sobbed. Blood lazily trickled down her arms, much of it now coagulated and dried on her skin. The sting of the blade remained though, calming the wild, buzzing energy that had coursed through her body not moments before.

As her tears subsided, she heard a ping coming from her phone.

She rubbed the tears from her eyes and reached up and behind her to grab her cell from the vanity. Her fingers felt a bit numb and weak, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t dealt with before.

When she finally grabbed the phone, she grimaced as blood from her fingers smeared across the screen. She quickly wiped it away with her shirt before opening the message.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was Bucky.

**B: Mornin’ babydoll. I hope your day is going good so far. I miss you and your perfect kisses xx**

Grace just looked at the message, rereading it and trying to dissect it for a moment.

Perfect kisses? He was the terrific kisser; she was just a mess!

She forced herself to take a deep breath and shakily typed a reply.

**G: Hey, handsome! Just a lazy day here, finally decided to drag myself out of bed lol I miss you too! :(**

She read it again before sending it, double checking that it came off as normal as possible. Bucky seemed to tolerate her being overweight and pathetic…but if he knew what she did to herself? There was no way in hell he wouldn’t take off running for the hills.

**B: Did you have a hard time sleeping, doll?**

_Why the fuck does he care?_

**G: Just restless, I suppose.**

For extra measure, she tacked on the little shrugging lady emoji.

**B: I’m sorry to hear that, beautiful. You know…maybe you’d get better sleep if someone was there to hold you xx**

Grace pictured it. Bucky in all his sculpted glory, looking like a Michelangelo sculpture come to life, holding her…a needy blob of clay who cried too easily. She bit her lip. Somewhere deep down, she knew he didn’t mean to conjure up that image, but once it flashed in her mind she couldn’t shake it.

It made bile rise in her throat.

Still, she swallowed her nerves and her doubts, and tried to meet his playful energy.

**G: Not sure having you there would help me sleep…**

A pause, and then –

**B: I don’t know, I’m sure I could tire you out, doll xx**

Her chest constricted as anxiety flared anew in her.

She felt sexy and desirable when she sat on his lap and he kissed her breathless, but now? She looked to her arms, to the blood smeared on the tiled floor around her…

**G: Bucky, you’re making me blush…**

**B: Well, you are gorgeous when you blush ;)**

**G: Tease. You’re lucky you’re pretty!**

**B: You think I’m pretty?**

_Duh!_

**G: I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Not sure why you let me touch you, to be honest…**

_Fuck._

She waited nervously for his reply.

**B: Doll, don’t be like that xx**

**B: You’ve got no idea what you do to me. Touchin’ and kissin’ you – fuck – it does things to me, baby…**

**B: I wish I was with you now, so I can show you what I mean…baby, when am I gonna get to see you again? I can’t let you keep thinkin’ so low of yourself. You’re perfect xx**

Fresh tears welled in her eyes and she curled in on herself, clutching her phone tight.

How did he see that when he looked at her? How did he not see the flaws that riddled her body? That broke her down and reduced her to the quivering, weeping mess she was?

Her fingers twitched, itching for the razor blade again.

Just when she reached for it, her phone pinged again.

**B: Grace, baby, talk to me xx**

Terrified he’d call if she remained silent, she hurried to placate him.

**G: I’m sorry. I’m being stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m free whenever you are, what did you want to do?**

_Nailed it._

A quick glance at his lengthy response stole that confidence from her. Afraid he’d finally had enough of her, it took her a moment to find the courage to read it.

_Smarten up, Kinsley. Read it. Face it, you did this to yourself…_

Her gaze flicked to the screen.

**B: One, you’re not stupid. Two, I’m gonna do my damnedest to make sure you don’t have a single doubt about how fucking badly I want you. Tomorrow. You, me, Coney Island. We’ve gotta know what your favorite ride is, and I’ve got to get my hands on you xx**

She was sick and tired of crying. It was all she’d done all day; how did she still have tears left? But still, somehow, she wept at his words.

It was stupid.

She was stupid.

But she wanted to believe him so badly it hurt.

Her eyes were so full of welling tears she could scarcely see the screen of her cell phone. A ping told her he’d sent another message and she roughly rubbed her eyes so she could read it.

**B: Grace? Babydoll?**

She sniffled. She didn’t want to unpack what he’d typed, so she focused on his idea of Coney Island.

**G: Coney Island sounds nice. What time should I send Sam your way?**

It felt like it took an eternity for him to reply.

**B: 10am work?**

That was it?

Grace’s mind leapt to one conclusion – she’d made him angry.

**G: Yeah, I’ll let him know. Thanks, Bucky. Really. And I’m sorry. Have a good day, okay?**

_He’s mad…of course he’s mad, I’m being ridiculous…_

**B: You too, baby. Stop being so hard on yourself, okay? xx**

**G: I’ll try.**

* * *

Bucky stared at his phone, flabbergasted and at a complete loss as to what to say.

Did she not remember a single thing he had said to her? If her texts were any indication, she didn’t. Hell, he’d wasted his breath.

Grumbling to himself in annoyance, he sent a final text.

**B: You’d better, doll ;) xx**

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he sighed and reclined in his seat, trying to make sense of the strange conversation he’d just had.

He didn’t like that he was frustrated with her. She didn’t know how high the stakes were for him, how desperate he was for the cash their relationship promised. And it wasn’t like Natasha hadn’t prepped him – Grace was sad, she was in a rut – but he wasn’t expecting such self-doubt. Surely it came down to more than her lack of experience with men? Or had his question thrown her off that badly?

Bucky remembered telling her that first night that he didn’t fault her for struggling, and truly he didn’t. She had been through hell; he just wasn’t expecting… _this_.

Was her appraisal of herself so low?

He knew he had to be missing something, but he was well aware that there was a lot a text couldn’t convey, so he tried not to worry about it too much. He’d get a better idea of how she was tomorrow.

Becca stirred and he reached out to take her hand again.

Whatever was going on with Grace he could figure out later. Becca needed him now.

“I’m here, Bec, you’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope a chapter with more 'filler' detail on Bucky is okay. I also really hope this sort of 'back-and-forth' with how he feels about Grace makes sense as well! We're still early on in their relationship and there are a few things that need to be revealed before he sort of leans in and accepts it - he's crazy about her. Right now, our dear Bucky is in denial and struggling to figure out what boundaries he wants to maintain with her. If it wasn't so much fun to write, I'd feel bad :P
> 
> Also, while the way Grace is behaving might seem annoying and potentially very exhausting for our dear Bucky, its her anxiety shining through. And yes, even when people know they have issues with mental illness that are made better by medication, sometimes (for one reason or another) they don't take it. 
> 
> I'm no expert in chemotherapy or the American medical system model. 
> 
> In Canada, the only cost you'd be looking at is maybe some oral medications, creams, etc. Chemo, radiation, and medically necessitated surgeries (i.e. double mastectomies) are covered by universal health care. I really can't wrap my head around things like that not being covered. When I researched costs for this story, I was FLOORED by what people are expected to pay out of pocket! FLOORED! I'm not saying unexpected medical expenses aren't financially devastating for families in Canada, they certainly can be, it's just not the norm. Like everyone I know whose battled cancer only had to pay for some meds, were helped by grants from the government and/or employers, and didn't have to re-mortgage their house to get treated. I hate that for some families that isn't the case :(


	10. Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their date hits a bit of a snag, Grace reveals a bit of herself she wanted to keep hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn, an update so soon!? ;) Next chapter's already in the works too! So baring no catastrophes or random bouts of writer's block, I may be able to milk this momentum a bit longer! *crosses fingers*

**Manhattan, NY**

Grace always regretted cutting when she woke up the morning after one of her ‘episodes’.

This morning was no exception. Her wrists and forearms stung fiercely. She’d fallen asleep without cleaning up, and aside from the washroom looking awful, the sleeves of her shirt were stuck to her arms, fixed in place by dried blood.

She whimpered as she pulled her shirt off, tearing the fabric from her arms and opening up her cuts. She rifled through one of the cupboards in her walk-in closet and found her kit – a makeshift first aid kit she’d cobbled together to clean up and bandage her wounds after she hurt herself.

_Fuck, I’m pathetic…_

Gently cleaning her arms under the tap, she lightly ran her fingers up and down to work the dried blood off. It revealed the full extent of her cuts, and her heart sank at the sight.

A dozen or so criss-crossed her left forearm, a few less adorned her right. She’d managed to keep most of the longer slashes away from the bend of her wrist, saving them for the meat of her forearm. There was a short but deep cut that made her bite her lip as she cleaned it, and as dried flecks of blood circled the drain, fresh blood soon joined it.

It was almost hypnotic, watching the swirl of red in the water.

And as she watched it, her mind drifted into darker waters.

_Jesus Christ, how pathetic am I?_

She pinched the wound.

_If dad could see me now…_

Years ago, when she was an overwhelmed high school senior working hard to prove herself academically, he’d discovered the bad habit she’d developed to cope. He’d taken her to the doctor immediately and kept on her to follow up with various appointments. He’d also arranged with her school to lighten her workload, getting extensions on her assignments and dropping a few extracurriculars. It had helped tremendously. With the guidance of a counsellor she’d stopped and learned not to stretch herself too far, and with medication she had fewer dark days.

Eventually, it became a thing of the past. A dirty little secret; something that only popped into her mind on occasion.

By the time she met Max, all save a few stubborn scars had faded. What hadn’t were easily explained away…allowing her to move on.

Or so she’d thought.

It was alarming how easily she’d fallen back into it, how mindlessly she’d sought out her preferred style of razor blade. How calming it felt between her fingers.

Grace turned off the tap and dabbed her arms dry. Two cuts looked too deep to leave unattended. She rifled through her kit, finding the skin glue she kept on hand for just such an occasion. Carefully, she pinched the skin together and applied the glue. After waiting the sixty seconds the box indicated, she lightly ran her finger over it.

It was smooth, seamless.

She moved on to the other angry cut, giving it the same treatment.

_Molly would be disgusted if she knew…_

But who could blame her?

Grace’s arms were revolting – a pale canvas marred by angry cuts and deep, pinpoint gouges.

_Jeanine would disown me…_

And rightfully so, Grace surmised. Her aunt had a company to run and a daughter to keep out of trouble, she hardly had the time for her.

_Bucky would…_

Grace swallowed hard.

_He’d run screaming…he’d…he’d tell people…_

Tears immediately sprung to her eyes. Of course Bucky would tell if he found out, legal consequences be damned. The reclusive daughter of the co-founder of ‘Aldridge & Kinsley’ hurting herself? Fallen socialite Grace Kinsley…mentally ill?

_No…no….nonononono…_

She stripped off the remnants of her clothes, letting them fall to the tiled floor as she made for the shower.

_No…it won’t happen. No one will ever know…_

Determined to right her mask, Grace hurriedly got the water going. She didn’t bother waiting for it to warm. She stepped into the stream, stifling a cry of discomfort, and running her fingers through her hair as the water soaked it.

If Sam was going to be picking Bucky up for 10am, she had time. She’d dig deep and find the energy needed to stray from leggings and sweaters. Damnit, she’d look like she belonged on his arm when they were out.

Strangely reinvigorated, Grace set to task.

Bucky wasn’t going to see through her façade.

No one would.

* * *

Grace tripled checked herself in the foyer mirror. It was 10:30am, and the text Bucky had sent only a few minutes ago said that he was close.

She was giddy with excitement and nerves.

She’d gone for a pair of comfortable jeggings (not much of a deviation from leggings, but she tried), and a long sleeved, loose grey shirt with lace detailing across her shoulders. Figuring they’d be walking a lot, she opted for runners. She’d dried her hair and spent far too long fiddling with it before caving and merely pinning it up in a messy bun.

Her makeup was minimal but necessary. Her eyes were still a bit puffy from crying the night before and concealing that was her top priority.

_He can’t know…he just can’t…_

When she was a bit more confident that she was at least presentable, she lifted up her sleeves to check her arms one last time. The glue was holding, as were the tiny Band-Aids she’d used on a few other stubborn, but smaller, cuts. The thin layer of antibiotic cream she’d coated herself in had soaked in some and didn’t feel quite as slimy.

_Perfect…_

She patted her pant pocket, confirming that her phone – and the credit card she had clipped to it – were still tucked there safely. As she clipped her key to the loop of her pants, there was a knock at her door.

Grace barely managed to smother the tiny squeal of delight that left her. She flicked off the foyer light and hurried to the front door.

“Coming!”

Grace opened the door, only to be met by the sinfully soft gaze of her date. It was enough to hoist the weight from her shoulders and make her knees go weak simultaneously.

“There she is,” Bucky said with a smirk, “hey, doll.”

His hands were shoved in the pockets of his khakis, something that made him look oddly bashful. The maroon zip up sweater he wore was only half done up, and the tight shirt he wore underneath highlighted the plains of his muscular chest.

_He looks so cozy…_

Maybe that alone was cause for her sudden desire to reach out and touch him, to wrap her arms around him and bask in his scent and warmth…but she wasn’t certain.

All she knew was that the wrought iron security gate between them needed to be opened.

“Hey,” she managed softly as she fumbled with the latch, unable to pull her focus from the man standing before her.

She caught his gaze darken, sucked in a tight breath at the sight of him licking his bottom lip.

“Get this open, doll,” he mumbled, “gotta get my hands on ya…”

It opened with a sharp, metallic whine, and the second he had enough room, Bucky stepped forward.

Grace gasped as he grabbed her hips and urged her backwards.

“B-Bucky, what are –

Her back hit the wall just inside the foyer. She looked up at Bucky, chest heaving as he loomed over her.

She wasn’t afraid, not even when he pressed his forehead to hers and reached out to gently shut the front door.

“B-Bucky…”

When it clicked closed, her head spun. She wasn’t afraid, but she was overwhelmed. He was so close, so warm and strong against her. And the look in his eyes…

It wasn’t soft and sweet like it had been not moments ago. It was dark and heady, bathed in a desire she didn’t think she’d ever seen directed her way. She felt small in the face of it and had to bite her lip to keep the soft moan caught in her throat from leaving her.

Bucky was quiet, but she could hear his sharp breaths, see his chest rise and fall quickly, and felt his arm slip around her.

When he dipped down to nuzzle into the curve of her neck, she gasped and melted. The stubble of his beard was rough but not unpleasant. Even so, when his lips met her sensitive skin it was more than welcomed.

The moan she’d been trying to stifle left her as she grasped his sides, digging her fingers into the fabric of his sweater lest she crumple.

“Oh my god…Bucky…”

His firm kisses became wet and sloppy. She arched against him as his tongue flicked over her skin, gasping as he lightly nipped her shoulder before travelling upward to the shell of her ear.

“Fuck, doll, I could just eat you up,” he breathed, his hand at her hip dipping down to palm her ass, “so fucking pretty…”

His tone left no room to argue, though protests did make themselves known in the back of her mind. His hand rising, fingers toying the hem of her shirt, dismissed them as soon as they materialized.

Grace whimpered as his fingertips met the skin of her hip.

She’d never been confident about her body. She was too soft, too pale and flabby under a man’s hand…

But fuck it still felt good. And if it put him off, he gave no indication. Instead, he slipped his hand up to settle on her bare hip as he rolled his hips against her.

Grace’s eyes fluttered open wide as her fuzzy brain fumbled to piece everything together.

He was hard. Really hard, against her thigh.

_O-Oh my god…_

Bucky playfully licked the lobe of her ear before pulling back enough to capture her lips.

She gasped and moaned against his lips, ceding to his demanding movements and exploring tongue. She pressed herself as closely to him as she could as he devoured her, grasping at his shoulders as a warmth bloomed between her legs.

Was it possible to cum just from a kiss? From a strong, demanding, but safe touch? Before now Grace wouldn’t have thought so, but the way her heart was racing, she thought maybe….maybe with Bucky it was possible…

_Hell, anything is, when he can kiss like that…_

To her dismay, Bucky eased back. He pulled his hand from her hip, slowed his kisses. He touched her chin, gently keeping her gaze upward as he broke their kiss.

“Do ya have a better idea, doll? Of what you do to me?”

He rocked his hips against her.

“Y-Yes,” was all she could stammer.

Bucky smirked, dragging his thumb along her bottom lip.

“’m not faking this, baby. I couldn’t…couldn’t fake bein’ this hard…”

Grace blushed. She licked her lips and titled her head back.

“I’m with ya because I want to be,” he kissed her chin, “and if ya need daily reminding…”

He held her to him by her hips, strong hands squeezing her gently.

“Just say the word, okay, baby?”

He hugged her, and a shaky breath left her as he kissed her face.

“I’m all yours…”

_You…you are?_

“I’m gonna let go of you now, Grace. Your legs going to cooperate and keep ya upright?”

_Right…Coney Island…we’ve got a date…date…yes…_

She nodded, but he kept a hand on her a bit longer.

“Hmm, didn’t realize I’d get you this hot and bothered…”

Though her eyes were closed, she could tell his smirk had turned smug.

She forced her heavy eyes to open, and smacked his side when that handsome, mischievous grin came into view.

“You’re evil…”

Her grip on him had eased some, but she still felt a bit shaky. He didn’t seem too rushed to be free of her touch though, so she savored it.

She pressed her forehead to his chest, fingers hooked through the belt loops of his pants.

He rubbed the back of her neck.

“Seriously though, that wasn’t too much? I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you…you’re just so fucking gorgeous and the thought that you don’t know what you do to me –

“’s fine, Bucky,” she nervously looked up, “that was…intense…I’m just not used to it…”

He brushed back her stray hairs, tucking them behind her ear.

“Well…I’m happy to get you used to it,” his thumb ran over the apple of her cheek as he touched her face, “whenever and however you want, Grace. You’ve got the reins…this was just…giving you a taste of what you can get.”

He kissed her forehead, smiling as she hummed in contentment.

“You good to go?”

Grace smirked, playfully pushing at his chest and pulling a deep laugh from him.

“Are you?”

She gave him what she hoped was a knowing look, too nervous to actually glance down and see how evident his arousal was.

Bucky chuckled, wincing as he cautiously tugged at the crotch of his khakis.

“Umm…yeah…in a second…”

Grace bit her lip. She knew laughing would probably not be appreciated at the moment, but it was difficult to stifle.

He paced the foyer, an uncomfortable look on his face as he mumbled under his breath. Grace only caught a bit of it.

‘Baseball’, ‘apple’, ‘tree’, ‘leaf’, ‘Betty White’ –

Grace clasped her hands over her mouth at the last one, but Bucky caught movement from the corner of his eye and pointed at her accusingly.

“Don’t go being mean,” he kept pacing, though it looked a bit less uncomfortable.

The idea of helping him came to mind, but her face flushed red and warm just at the thought alone. It was an…interesting idea, but one that would be a huge leap forward with him. Deciding it was best to file that idea away for a later date, one where her heart wasn’t about to burst, Grace took a step towards him and held out her hand.

“Come on, Bucky. Coney Island. You. Me. Remember?”

He took her hand with a pout.

“Thought you weren’t going to be mean,” he whispered.

He fidgeted with the crotch of his pants one more time, shifting from one foot to the other as he tried to get comfortable.

Grace squeezed his hand.

“I’d never be mean to you, Bucky Barnes.”

* * *

Bucky kept his hand at the small of her back as she locked up the house. When she turned around, he stole another kiss and grinned upon catching the glimmer of bashful wonder in her eyes.

He still hadn’t picked up on anything that shed any light on their strange conversation over text the day before, but they had only just met up. She was all smiles and excited, nervous glances. It was great to see, but it didn’t really give him much to work with.

“Did Sam have to pull ahead, or…?”

She was holding his hand, standing close to him as she stood on her tippy toes to glance down the street.

_She needs to stop being so goddamn adorable…_

He kissed her forehead.

“Nah, actually I told him we’d just take the subway down.”

Something shifted in the space between them, so slight he almost missed it.

_What the fuck…_

Bucky wouldn’t exactly call it tension, but something in Grace’s demeanor had changed.

“Are you – 

“Oh…oh…okay,” Grace touched his chest, “sounds great…”

Her tone screamed of the opposite though and he inched away from her a bit to try to meet her gaze.

He’d waved Sam off without giving it much of a second thought. It was a nice enough day, the sky was clear, and the sun was out…why not take their time, enjoy it a bit?

She was slow to meet his gaze, and when she did, it made his earlier feeling seem less like an imagining of his own mind.

There was a little smirk on Grace’s lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes…well…

_Is…Is she scared?_

Immediately, he felt his hackles raise a bit. Was she so sheltered that the idea of _slumming_ it on the subway with the common folk made her so uncomfortable? Was this where she revealed her true colors?

Bucky frowned.

He didn’t like how easily that thought came to mind.

He might not have known her long, but he thought he’d had a good read on her. She seemed…really amazing.

And damnit, he wanted to be right.

Being so tightly coiled around her finger wasn’t so humiliating if she was a decent person. If he was wrong…if she was actually the spoiled princess he’d been expecting that night they first met…

“We could call him, if you want? Ask him to swing back?” he offered.

“Nope,” she said quickly, hooking her arm through his, “we’re good. Lead on, handsome.”

* * *

Grace tried not to worry about how convincing she had been as they headed for the subway. Things were going okay. They were chatting (seemingly) comfortably enough, and she even managed to ask deceptively insightful questions as he told his story that kept him talking…

But she’d caught the look in his eyes when she’d been surprised to hear he’d dismissed Sam.

_He either thinks I’m a controlling bitch or that I’m some spoiled brat who can’t walk more than a block without fainting…_

Grace chuckled at his joke about tourists.

_Or…or he thinks I’m so fat there’s no way I’ll be able to take so much walking…_

“Here we are, doll.”

She smiled up at him, tightening her hold on his arm as they headed for the stairs.

It had been about a year since she’d last taken the subway, and while she never really liked the bustling crowds, as a New Yorker, she tolerated them. It was just a part of living in the city she loved, and when she had been younger, she’d been awed by the crowds.

Of course, she’d been a toddler on her father’s shoulders then…

Grace hugged herself close to Bucky as they descended the steps, passing commuters hurrying the way they’d came. A woman brushed up against Grace’s arm, and that little touch rippled through her. It settled in her spine; a shaky feeling that made her want to flick her hands as though they were wet from the sink and she had no other way of drying her hands.

_Fuck, get it together…_

It wasn’t the thought of the vast city just above her head, or the walls of metal and concrete around her that unnerved her. It was that woman grazing her. It was the promise of more accidental, innocent bumps and nudges as they went from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

She was so overwhelmed and lost in her head, that she didn’t notice Bucky paying for her fare until they’d passed the turnstiles.

“Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, babydoll.”

His voice and the sugary sweet pet name made her resulting smile a bit less forced.

They only had to wait ten minutes for the train they needed, and Grace spent each and every second of it pressed to Bucky’s side. She crossed her fingers, hoping and praying he just thought she was being cute and affectionate.

They lucked out and both got seats, but by the third stop, the train car they were in was filling up.

_Why the fuck is everyone going to Brooklyn?_

By the fifth stop, Grace had had her toe stepped on three times and the backpack of the teen sitting next to her was pushed into her. She felt like her lungs were going to burst in her chest, when Bucky grabbed her hand.

“Come on, doll.”

Elation struck her – they’d arrived! She had no idea how long had passed since they’d boarded, but surely this was it! They’d reached their destination!

But no…

Grace’s beaming smile dropped in an instant.

No, Bucky had given their seats up to an elderly couple.

She’d never been so pissed to be part of a kind gesture.

Bucky waved off the thanks of the couple and guided her a few steps back to a pole, wrapping his free arm around her as he gripped the bar above them. Grace steadied herself against the pole, but eventually let go of it to hold onto Bucky.

She kept her forehead pressed to his chest, terrified to see his expression.

If he thought she was a brat before, how low must his impression of her be now that she’d not noticed the elderly couple hoping for a seat?

To her horror, she felt him shift, felt his cheek press against hers…

She still jumped when his breath tickled her neck.

“Doll? You okay?”

She didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded.

_I’m fine. Perfect. At a hundred percent. Having the time of my life. Perfect. Fine. I’m perfectly fine, I’m –_

“Grace?”

When she didn’t answer, he let go of the overhead bar, hooking his arm around the pole so he could touch her without risking losing their balance.

Grace whined as he touched her chin, petulantly resisting until he said her name again.

She slowly looked up, sniffling, but wearing her perfect grin.

“’m alright, Bucky.”

But by the way his brow had furrowed, and his jaw had clenched, she guessed she looked as bad as she felt.

Bucky leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I’m calling BS,” he rubbed her back, “you look like you’re gonna cry, baby. What’s wrong?”

Chin now quivering uncontrollably, Grace grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as she fought to find her words. She was shielded from prying eyes by his body and her hair, but she still felt like everyone’s focus was on her.

The train slowed to a stop and as Bucky waited patiently for her to answer, the man behind Grace stumbled a bit. He took a step back to steady himself, bumping into her.

That slight touch was enough to jar loose the tears she’d been stubbornly holding back.

“I-I need out,” she managed in a tight breath, “Bucky, I-I can’t breathe.”

She caught the moment he registered her tears and her heart broke.

_No…please no…_

But before she could wallow in doubt or the questions her anxious mind conjured, Bucky had grabbed her hand.

“Come on.”

He tugged her with him toward the door, scrambling out of the car just before the doors slid closed.

Grace choked on a sob and he pulled her forward, wrapping his arm around her as they navigated the crowded platform. She squeezed her eyes closed, trusting him entirely to get her out and into the fresh air.

She fought to keep her focus on him as more unseen bodies bumped into her. Each touch was like a little electrical shock. It sent shivers through her body she couldn’t shake, and by the time they pushed past the turnstiles, her hands felt numb.

In a whirlwind, they were outside.

Where exactly, Grace didn’t know. But they were outside. She could breathe. She had space. The only one touching her was Bucky.

_Bucky…_

He’d led her to a bench, and as she looked around them, the only landmark she recognized was the Brooklyn Bridge.

_Not helpful…_

She kept looking around though, deciding it was safer than meeting his gaze as he sat next to her.

“Grace?”

Biting her nails, she turned away from him to scour the area.

_We’ve left Manhattan, and the bridge is close…maybe –_

“You can nibble your fingers down to stumps, doll. We’re still going to talk about what just happened.”

Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

_He’s going to think I’m insane…_

Bucky grabbed her wrist and guided her hand down.

“Grace –

“Where are we?”

He sighed.

“Brooklyn Bridge Park.”

She nodded quickly, then tried to return to sightseeing.

“Grace, look at me.”

She couldn’t. His tone scared her.

He was frustrated with her. If she said a word in reply, he’d tell her just that.

Grace really didn’t want to hear him say that.

“Do you get panic attacks often?”

_Lie._

“No,” she said quietly, risking a quick glance at him.

“Okay,” he said with alarming calm, “was it the close quarters?”

She shook her head.

“Too many people touching me, bumping into me.”

When he let go of her hand, a ragged breath left her.

“Don’t.”

She forced her numb hand towards his.

“You’re okay,” she clarified, sighing in relief when he held her hand again, “I’m sorry…”

Despite everything, she really did want to go with him to Coney Island. She wanted to spend time with him, to hold his hand as they walked the boardwalk and figured out her favorite ride. It gutted her to realize that she’d ruined it.

_I ruin everything…_

Grace jumped a bit when he cupped her face in his hands and brushed her tears away with his thumbs.

“Don’t you dare say sorry, doll.”

“But –

“No,” he said firmly, “no buts’. It’s not your fault.”

She sniffled.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s not,” he scooched in close to her, kissing the top of her head, “it’s not dumb, Grace.”

“You sure? Cause I really feel like an idiot right now.”

She looked up at him as she wiped away her tears, chuckling softly as she realized how truly ridiculous she must look.

All that effort she’d put into getting ready, into concealing the fact that she’d been crying…

Only to lose it in front of him because she felt crowded.

But Bucky just smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Positive.”

She forced herself to swallow her protests. He hadn’t taken off running, he didn’t seem upset now…that had to count for something.

“Did you want to give Sam a call? We could be back at your place –

“No! No, I don’t want to go home.”

“Babydoll, it’s okay,” he soothed, “we can order out and have a movie marathon. I don’t want you upset…”

That he suggested something else that they could still do together startled her.

“You…still want to hang out? Even with me…like this?”

She didn’t exactly have a mirror to confirm it, but she’d put good money on her looking like hell. Even if that didn’t scare him away, the little fit she’d just had should.

Who wanted to associate with a crazy person?

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to her warm cheek, “if you’re up for it.”

Grace considered it. While take out and a movie marathon did have its appeal, at the moment it felt like a cop out. They’d come this far and as awful as she still felt for freaking out because people bumped into her, she wanted it to be worth it.

“Can…can we maybe…get a cab the rest of the way?” she sniffled, “To Coney Island?”

Bucky’s expression fell,

“Grace…we don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she countered quickly, “please? I’ve been looking forward to it and we’ve come this far…”

He didn’t look convinced.

“Baby…it’s going to be crowded…”

“But we’ll be outside, and if we’re having fun I’ll be distracted!”

Bucky’s hand returned to her cheek.

“Does it mean that much to you?”

She nodded, leaning into his touch.

“Do you promise to tell me the second you think it might be getting too much for you?”

Grace smiled, knowing she had him.

“Yes, I promise.”

Bucky smirked, leaning in and kissing her slowly.

It was silly, but she felt the last remnants of tension ease from her shoulders as he kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words and patience!


	11. A Touch of Sweetness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Grace's Coney Island date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be posted much sooner, but life got busy and then I decided to rewrite it a few times *sigh* work has gotten busy too. My area is dealing with a second wave of Covid :( 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It may come off as a bit 'filler' in nature, but a lot of what is mentioned in passing here pops up later on. Also, I SWEAR the smut is coming! I SWEAR! The build up - and the angst coming up VERY soon - will all make it worth it!
> 
> Wherever you are, stay safe, dear readers!

“Do I look alright?” Grace asked him in a whisper as the cab door shut.

Her tears had dried and the red of her cheeks had lessened, but there was a bit of her eye makeup that had smudged downward a bit. Her lips were kiss-swollen and reddened from her nervous biting, and she had a few more stray hairs framing her face than before.

She was beautiful, just as she always was, but Bucky knew she was looking for a bit more help than that.

He smiled, quickly licking his thumb and running it under her eye to wipe away the smudged makeup.

“Ugh, Bucky!”

Her nose crinkled in disgust, though she didn’t swat away his hand or stop him from giving her other eye the same treatment.

“There, flawless,” he winked, grabbing her hand and threading his fingers between her own.

Grace rolled her eyes as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Bucky watched her closely, though he tried to not make it too obvious. She was undoubtedly still feeling overexposed after what happened in the subway and having calmed her – and learned something so intimate about her – he didn’t want to give her reason to clam up.

Looking back at it all, Bucky felt like he should have known. She’d said on the night they’d met that she’d always been a worrier, and then again when they’d been getting to know each other the last time they hung out at her place.

_‘I’ve just always been so anxious…it’s always been hard…meeting guys and talking to them. I’m awkward and quiet…’_

Bucky wanted to kick himself.

She’d practically told him twice and he hadn’t caught on.

_At least I know now…_

This went beyond just having low self-esteem or not as much confidence when it came to men. Anxiety like what she’d just revealed…

Bucky brought her hand up, kissing her knuckles and smiling as she turned her attention from the car window to him, a sweet blush on her cheeks.

She might have claimed to not get panic attacks often, but something told him that wasn’t likely. He’d seen her wide, terror filled eyes on the train car; felt and watched her body shake and spasm as though she were being shocked…

If her anxiety was high enough to cause one, it had likely caused others.

The thought of that alone conjured up unsettling images.

Grace all alone in her big, empty townhouse, suffering through another attack like the one he’d just witnessed. Had she been in the midst of one when they’d been texting yesterday? He understood her not telling him, he was just a guy she’d hired, someone on the payroll; but what if she wasn’t even telling her cousin or aunt?

Did anyone know?

Bucky tried to conceal his worry, tried to tell himself it wasn’t any of his business. Grace was an adult and yes, he was supposed to make her happy, but he wasn’t a therapist. He wasn’t even her friend. He was an escort. A man-whore.

_I’m not her friend. I’m not. I’m a good-for-nothing. I’m nothin’…just a whore…_

Bucky swallowed hard.

If and when she wanted to have sex, he’d make her happy. Hell, he’d make her forget her own name. That was the only kind of happiness he could offer; the only kind he had it in himself to give. Everything leading up to that, all the preamble, was just to get her comfortable with letting him give her that.

Anything outside of that was messy, but with any luck their Coney Island date would get him one step closer to giving her what he knew he could.

Grace needed to know his value.

Their cabbie merged from the 278 onto the 478, heading south. Bucky watched her as she looked out the window, watching the city pass by as they sat in comfortable silence. She’d tightened her hold on his hand and was running her thumb across the back of his.

_She needs to know…_

* * *

As the cab pulled away, Grace clung to Bucky. The park was incredibly busy, just as he said. Crowds of beachgoers stretched as far as she could see, while perhaps just as many people mingled along the boardwalk.

But just as the thought of bailing crossed her mind, Bucky squeezed her hand.

“Why don’t we start at Luna Park, doll?” he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head, “I haven’t been on the Cyclone in years.”

She let him lead her toward the gate.

“Should we start there, then?”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

* * *

“You’re okay, baby,” Bucky kissed her brow, “we’re nearly there.”

The line up for the rollercoaster had wrapped around the fence surrounding it but had been moving fairly well. She hadn’t felt too overwhelmed, that is, until the group of teens behind them started getting rowdy as they got closer to the head of the line. When one overly zealous teen stepped back too much and stepped on Grace’s heel, she had to bite her lip to keep from squealing.

_Too close…too close…too close…too close…_

Bucky had snapped at the youth, pulled her close and gently rubbed the small of her back.

“Baby, we can bail if you –

“The Cyclone is your favorite right?” she asked quickly, looking up at him hopefully.

Bucky gave a soft smile, and she leaned into him.

“Nah, it’s a classic though, in my top five,” he said, “my favorites are the Tickler and the Soarin’ Eagle.”

“We’ll have to try them.”

“Yeah?”

Grace nodded.

“Got to figure out what my favorite is right? That means we’ve got to try as many rides as possible.”

“Hm, deal, baby,” he kissed her, “but only if I can win you a prize later at one of those stands.”

He nodded to the row of stands not to far from where they stood.

From a distance, Grace could spot a few with water guns and rings, and walls of cheap stuffed animals.

“Well…okay, but only if I can win _you_ a prize,” she said with a smirk, eyeing a ridiculously large penguin, “that one!”

Bucky turned.

“Which one?”

Grace pointed.

“That big penguin.”

“Where?”

Grace’s brow furrowed in confusion.

How could he not see it? The thing was huge!

“There! Bucky, how can you not see it?”

She was about to describe exactly where it was – hanging on the post of a water gun game stand closest to them – when Bucky crouched down so he was at her eye level.

She blushed.

_Oh no…_

“Ah, I see it,” his cock-eyed grin made her blush darken, “how’d I miss that?”

Grace swatted his arm.

“Bucky!”

He chuckled, trying to pull her back into his arms.

“Come on, doll –

“You jerk!”

“I couldn’t help it,” he whined, “I’m sorry –

“I’m not going to win you that penguin,” Grace poked his chest, her feigned scowl failing by the second, “that’ll teach you to think twice before going for the short joke!”

The line moved and he pouted as they stepped forward.

“But I like it…”

Grace pinched his side.

“You shouldn’t have teased then.”

Bucky laughed, taking her by the hand and moving her ahead of him in line.

“Letting me butt you in line isn’t going to sway me, Mr. Barnes.”

“Oh, I know, doll.”

He hugged her from behind, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. His arms were just under her bust, and when he took a deep breath and sent a shiver down her spine, she relaxed against him.

“B-Bucky…”

Her shirt felt too tight across her chest, her jeggings too thin with the warmth of him behind her.

She didn’t want him to let go.

“Buck…”

When she was with Max, she had to twist his arm to get him to hold her hand. It made her feel pathetic.

Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the fight. She’d try to keep close to him, soaking up as much of his warmth as she could, but it was always a fight. Especially in the last few months of their relationship.

Looking back, it embarrassed her to realize how often he criticized her for being clingy. Wherever they were, it wasn’t the ‘right place’ to be holding hands. Either that, or it was too hot out.

That particular excuse had given her a new worry – that her palms were disgusting and slimy with sweat. She hadn’t attempted to hold his hand again until the leaves had started to fall.

“Any closer to swayin’ you, doll?” he asked, his breath warm on her neck.

Grace knew deep down he was playing the part she paid him to, but it was still so easy to get lost in.

So she tried to hide it as best she could. They were just joking around after all, teasing. He didn’t need to know how easily he could sway her. He didn’t need to know how smitten she was after a couple of dates.

Max knew how pathetic and desperate she was…she didn’t need Bucky to find out.

“Just a bit,” she conceded, “…sweet talker.”

* * *

Grace loved the Cyclone. It was too early to say it was her favorite, but when they stepped out of the gated area after disembarking, she was still giddy with adrenaline-induced excitement.

It made pushing aside her worries much easier.

Bucky grabbing her hand as they weaved through the crowd clinched it.

They made quick work of Luna Park, hitting the Tickler and the Soarin’ Eagle. The Slingshot was a bit too much for her ( catchy words on the ride’s signage bragging ‘90mph’ and ‘150 feet into the sky’ made her pale) so they rode the Tickler again before moving on.

“Come on, doll, let me get ya that prize I promised.”

Grace couldn’t contain her delight as he kissed the back of her hand.

“The big penguin?”

Bucky laughed.

“If that’s what you want, baby, that’s what I’ll get you.”

They hung back until a group had dispersed, but when their turn came, Grace realized how complicated the game was. Rows of little tin cards with characters on conveyor belts went at different speeds across the backdrop. There were obstacles, and each belt was a bit further back from the one ahead of it. If she was going to get the big penguin – which she now realized had a cute little red bowtie – Bucky had to hit all three of the soldiers in the back row in two minutes. And of course, the back row was going the fastest.

She was confident Bucky could do it, but there was no way she was going to be able to…

And she really wanted to get Bucky one of the big penguins.

He caught her pout.

“Grace?”

He’d handed over the tokens required and was holding the painted, plastic water rifle.

She stepped closer to him, shrugging as she toyed with the hem of his sweater.

“I wanted to win you a prize too,” she looked to the little tin cards wiping across the backdrop, “I don’t think I could hit the ones in the back…”

Bucky kissed the top of her head.

“I don’t need a big prize, baby. I’d love anything you win me.”

Before she could begin to process the softness of his voice or ‘love’, the buzzer sounded, and Bucky’s two minutes began.

He turned to the game, raised the painted rifle, and squeezed the trigger…

And in twenty seconds, won the penguin.

“Here you go, Grace.”

He offered her the penguin, but Grace shook her head.

_I’ve got to win him something._

“Did you want a different one?” he glanced back to the prizes.

“N-No! I love it!” she stepped forward, “just…hold onto it while I win you…something. Please.”

She handed the vendor the tokens she needed and awkwardly took the water rifle.

_Please…please don’t mess this up._

Bucky’s hand settled on her hip.

“You’ve got this,” he soothed, kissing her cheek.

The buzzer sounded, and panic immediately shot through her chest.

_I…I’ve got this._

But in two minutes, it was painfully obvious she didn’t.

She didn’t hit a single target.

Grumbling in frustration and embarrassment, Grace handed the vendor more tokens. She forced herself not to look to Bucky. He had to feel bad for her, and she didn’t need to see the pity in his features.

The buzzer sounded and she raised the rifle.

“Take your time,” Bucky said quietly, “don’t rush your shots.”

He tapped her elbow, guiding her to raise it ever so slightly.

“You’ve got it, doll.”

Her third shot struck one of the soldiers in the second row.

“Yes!”

“Focus,” Bucky reminded gently.

_Don’t fuck this up._

Somehow, she hit another. This time, in the front row.

_I’ve got this._

And with fifteen second left, she managed to down a third in the second row.

_Did I…?_

The vendor turned off the water.

“Winner.”

_I did!_

“Oh my god, I did it!”

It wasn’t enough to get him a penguin, but it was a win.

Grace would take it.

“Which do you like?” Grace asked, finally looking back to find Bucky’s focus on her and not the selection of prizes the vendor was indicating.

The look he was giving her was soft, fond; but intense.

She blushed and looked back at the prizes.

“The seal is –

“We’ll take the seal, please.”

Bucky accepted the stuffed seal from the vendor and handed Grace her penguin.

They stepped away from the stall to give others room.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in to kiss her brow.

“Thanks, baby.”

Grace smiled, leaning into him.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

“Bucky! Oh my god, we have to!”

She hurriedly tucked her penguin under her arm.

“Do we now?” he laughed.

“Yes! Come on! No one’s using it!”

Grace grabbed his arm and hurried towards the photobooth. Bucky had tucked the seal she won him into his sweater, leaving its face to peak out. There was no way she was letting him get away without getting a picture.

“Will we fit in there with your penguin?”

He raised a good point, but she was bound and determined to make it work.

“I’m not leaving here without a cute picture with you,” she fed the booth tokens, “we’re just going to have to make it work.”

Bucky hugged her from behind.

“Hmm, you’ll have to sit on my lap, doll.”

Grace smiled nervously.

The thought that she’d be too heavy for that crossed her mind. It was stupid. She’d been on his lap on her couch before, how was this any different?

_It’s not. I’m being stupid._

Bucky kissed just behind her ear, smiling against her skin.

“That okay?”

“Of course,” she squeezed his hand and pulled back the booth curtain, “get in there, handsome.”

Bucky laughed as he stepped into the booth, sitting down on the small seat and reaching out to grab her hand.

“Come here, baby.”

Grace stepped in, and immediately realized how tight a space it truly was.

“It’s a good thing I like you,” she quipped with a grin as she sat on his lap, “fuck, was this built for more than one person?”

She draped her arm around his shoulders, setting the penguin on her lap.

“Probably,” Bucky shifted, trying to get something close to comfortable, “might be the penguin they didn’t account for.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, “your seal’s the one to blame!”

He huffed, looking down at the seal tucked into his sweater. It had slipped down a bit and Grace’s heart swelled as he tugged the seal up so its face was visible again.

“Not his fault,” Bucky mumbled, hugging her tight, “comfy?”

Her feet stuck out between the booth’s curtains. Her phone was digging into her thigh, and her keys were jabbing her in the stomach, but she figured it was as good as it could get.

“I should be asking you that…”

She touched his chin, smiling softly as she ran her thumb over the dimple in his chin.

_God, who does he think he is? Sitting there, being so handsome and sweet it should be fucking criminal…_

She really did have to send Natasha a terrific thank-you present.

“I’m fine, Grace. Really.”

“Really?”

He kissed her chin.

“Really, really, baby,” he leaned forward to press the start button, “let’s do this.”

Their first picture was sweet. He hugged her close, pressing his cheek against hers as the camera clicked.

For their second, he moved the penguin up in the shot and made a silly face. Grace laughed as the click signaled the picture had been taken.

She cupped his face, guiding him to look at her.

“You’re such a fucking dork!”

The booth’s camera clicked again.

“Am I now?” he snipped, gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips, “here I thought you were nice…”

She pouted.

“I am…”

He kissed her softly and she melted against him.

It didn’t really matter how cramped the booth was, or if her keys were poking her. Bucky was with her. He was holding her, kissing her…and damnit, she didn’t want him to stop.

_I’m so pathetic…_

She barely knew him, hell, she’d just met him! Nothing between them was real!

_He’s only here because I’m paying him…_

Bucky nipped her bottom lip and she moaned into their kiss.

_If he knew about my cuts…_

Grace laced her arms around his neck.

_He’d leave._

Bucky slipped his tongue past her lips and she whined in surprise before sinking back into it. She kissed him back with equal fervor, flicking her tongue against his and pulling a deep, guttural moan from him.

_I’m just the sad, pathetic mess that no one wants…_

He broke their kiss and smirked as she tried to follow his lips as he pulled back.

“Sweetheart, I think we’ve taken all our pictures.”

_Oh…right…that._

“Let me see what we’ve got.”

She slid off his lap and stepped out of the booth. The strip of pictures was in the process of printing.

“Can we do another?” Bucky asked from inside the booth, “that way we can each have one.”

She gave him a playful look, nodding, as she snagged the strip of pictures from the booth. She fed more tokens into the booth and stepped back inside, handing the strip to Bucky.

As she settled back on his lap, she caught the soft, fond look on his face as he looked at the strip.

“What?” Grace asked as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

He handed the strip back to her and she had a better look at the images the camera had captured.

“O-Oh…”

The first two were cute and tame. The last three were anything but.

She blushed despite herself.

“We look good together,” Bucky said quietly as he took the strip back to look at, “don’t we, doll?”

_Fuck…don’t say that…_

The last thing she needed was him fueling her delusions.

But…well…

They really did look good together.

“You ready?”

He was about to press the start button

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

* * *

As Bucky got them drinks and hotdogs from the nearby food cart, Grace sat on the bench near the edge of the boardwalk. Her penguin sat next to her on the bench.

She had both photo strips in hand and was still trying to make sense of the rollercoaster of emotions looking at them ignited.

Why did they have to look so good together?

“Here ya go, baby.”

Grace looked up and smiled as she took the hotdog Bucky offered her.

“Thank you.”

He took the can of Pepsi from his sweater pocket and handed it to her before sitting down.

“I hope this is just as good as I remember them being,” he commented, cracking open his can of Dr. Pepper, “it’s been years since I’ve had one.”

“Did you used to come here a lot then?”

Bucky nodded.

“Went with my sisters as much as I could when we were growing up.”

He took a bite of his hotdog and hummed, nodding.

“Just as good?” she asked.

“Hmm, yeah,” Bucky licked his lips, “not as good as the ones at Yankee Stadium, but pretty damn good.”

Grace took a bite of her own.

“Hmm, so good.”

They ate quietly.

As they finished up, Bucky sat aside his soda and dug in his pant pocket to pull out his phone.

“Sorry,” he typed in his passcode, “it’s my sister. Just give me a second to reply.”

Grace nodded and looked away, wanting to give him a bit of privacy. She couldn’t help but notice though that his phone case was in rough shape. Like, really rough shape.

She had no idea how it was holding together.

_Maybe he’s just one of those people who use things until they fall apart?_

That was fair, she decided. Her father had the same briefcase for years, holding onto it until it had – quite literally – fallen apart. Her aunt had given it to him when they started the company. Maybe a friend or one of his sisters had given him the case?

Bucky tucked his phone back into his pant pocket.

“Everything okay?” she asked, somewhat awkwardly.

“Oh yeah, it’s all good,” he shrugged.

He didn’t make to elaborate, which immediately piqued her curiosity.

_Huh…_

It wasn’t like he owed her more details, but it felt like saying _something_ more was a given.

Hell, even some vague, big-brother quip about her would have made the situation less weird!

Certain she was simply being a paranoid freak, Grace tried to get them back on track, not liking the strange silence that hung over them.

“You went to Yankee Stadium a lot?”

Bucky nodded, seemingly unaffected by the strange lull in their conversation.

“Loved seeing the Yankees play when I was growing up,” he smirked fondly, as though recalling a particular memory, “my mom took me as often as she could.”

“Not your dad?”

“Nah,” he said quickly, “my dad was always working. Did you go?”

“With my dad and brother sometimes, yeah. We went less frequently as we got older. Dad got busy,” Grace shrugged, “then life got busy for me and Nate too. Somehow there just wasn’t enough time.”

Bucky’s expression fell ever so slightly, and Grace got the feeling he could relate to her sentiment.

She hadn’t had enough time with her dad or her brother. Even now, she keenly felt their loss. Nate practically lived at Coney Island during the open season, somehow finding time that Grace just couldn’t. She couldn’t help but think he would have loved to be with them today.

_Wonder what he’d make of Bucky…_

“We should go sometime,” Bucky offered, a hint of a smile having returned to his lips, “you and me; Yankee Stadium. The hot dogs there were the best.”

Grace couldn’t remember the last time she saw the Yankees play. She and Nate were young, that was about all she knew for sure. She wasn’t the biggest baseball fan. Even now, she had a hard time keeping up with the rules; but the idea of going back to see a game wasn’t off-putting.

Especially if Bucky was eager to join her.

She smiled.

“That’d be great.”

* * *

After talking with Grace for hours on the boardwalk – about everything from baseball and movies, to music and cooking - Bucky had insisted on phoning Sam for a ride. He didn’t want to upset Grace with another attempt at the subway…nor did he want to deal with her stuffed penguin sitting between them in a cab.

The prize she’d won him was still tucked in his sweater, as was the strip of pictures from the photobooth. He’d kept the pictures from their second sitting in the booth, and all but the final picture were of them kissing each other breathless.

It was that final picture that had him a bit worried.

In it, Grace was looking at him with complete, unabashed affection. Her lips were kiss-swollen, and her cheeks were rosy. A stray lock of hair had fallen loose from her bun and he’d been in the midst of tucking it behind her ear when the picture was taken.

He hadn’t been lying earlier – they did look good together. But after having seen that final picture, he realized he really shouldn’t have voiced the thought.

Grace had it bad.

He hugged and kissed her on the sidewalk outside her house, smirking as he kissed her neck and hurriedly peppered light kisses across her cheeks and over her forehead.

To his dismay, the sound of her excited giggles delighted him.

They parted with promises to talk very soon and as he got back in the car and Sam pulled away, he waved back at her.

Grace had hugged the penguin tight and waved back.

Now, as they merged into traffic, Bucky realized he needed to try harder to keep better emotional distance with her. At the end of the day, she was his employer. He had a job to do, yes, but he couldn’t forget how vulnerable she was.

Her life had been turned upside down. She was lonely and desperate for affection – of course she’d fall fast and hard for him.

Bucky sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his hair as he dug his phone from his pocket.

Anna had texted him as he ate with Grace on the boardwalk.

Becca hadn’t had a good day and had managed to get an early appointment the following morning with the cancer clinic to check her over.

His family needed him to take her.

“Everything okay, man?” Sam asked as they stopped at a red light, glancing back at him through the rear-view mirror.

Bucky tucked his phone away.

“Yeah, just family stuff.”

Sam nodded.

“Grace looked happy,” he commented, “you win her that penguin?”

Bucky snorted in amusement, the image her of bubbly excitement as they approached the stand coming to mind.

“Yeah.”

“And I suppose you have her to thank for that stuffed seal you’ve got tucked in your sweater?” Sam asked, tone laced with amusement and knowing.

“I most certainly do.”

The light turned green and Sam continued on.

“She seems to really be having a great time with you, man. I hope the feeling’s mutual.”

_That’s the problem._

Grace was great. She was sweet and funny, and they were having fun together. There was still something he couldn’t quite put his finger on that was going on with her, but he wasn’t too worried.

“It is,” Bucky said truthfully, “she’s a wonderful girl.”

“But?” Sam offered, “feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

There was, but Bucky wasn’t about to admit it to Sam.

“’But’ nothing,” he said evenly, “she’s amazing. She’s sweet, kind, beautiful –

“Filthy fucking rich,” Sam finished, “that why you don’t want her knowing where you live?”

Bucky had no intention of Grace ever finding out the truth, let alone _seeing_ where he lived. It was best she continued to believe he fit seamlessly into her life, that he belonged in her world.

Asking her to be ‘okay’ with the mess that was his life was too much.

It didn’t matter how fondly she looked at him, or how eager she seemed for his kisses. If she knew, she’d drop him immediately.

He couldn’t – and wouldn’t – ever risk that happening.

“I like her,” he admitted quietly, “she doesn’t need to know how hilariously out of my league she is…”

Bucky wasn’t sure how else to put it. If Sam was going to keep quiet, he had to say something.

And it wasn’t like it was a lie.

Bucky was no where near good enough for a woman like her.

“I don’t know about that, man. Seems to me like if a persons’ decent none of that should matter.”

It was grossly naïve of him to think so, but Bucky didn’t call Sam out on it.

“Besides, she’s crazy about you…but what do I know. I just drive fancy rich folk around town,” Sam smirked, “well…’cept you of course.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

* * *

That night, Grace laid on her bed, pen in hand. She’d showered, tidied up her room a bit, and sent Bucky a goodnight text.

Her penguin was at the head of her bed, nestled amongst the pillows.

She was ready for bed.

Well, almost.

Her notebook containing her bucket list was opened, and she was eager to update it before she retreated under the covers.

She eyed number thirteen on her list.

  1. **Go to Coney Island with Bucky – figure out what my favorite ride is.**



With a soft, bubbly grin, she checked it off and wrote underneath it.

**‘The Tickler’**

But as soon as her pen left the page, she realized how…inadequate it felt as an answer.

So she crossed it out and wrote –

**‘The photobooth’**

Content with her answer (despite knowing full well how nauseatingly sweet and stupid it was), she put her pen to paper a line below that.

  1. **Take Bucky to Yankee Stadium.**



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm working on my other fics too, dear readers! I know many are itching for a 'Perfect Sin' update, and the next chapter is like, 60% done. I just get so wrapped up in my head. I get caught up trying to write a perfect story, with depth and a plot that comes full circle...*sigh* I know I need to chill and just let it happen...but it's easier said than done, I suppose. 
> 
> Know that I'm trying, and that the patience of you all means more to me than I could ever say! <3 
> 
> Also, as a side note, Grace's worries/thoughts might seem repetitive. It might be annoying to read, but its intentional on my part. Anxiety disorders and depression are a real bitch. I know from personal experience (not that they're the same for everyone). Negative, self-deprecating thoughts are hard to silence sometimes and when you add the loss of a loved one (or ones, in Grace's case) it can be worse. I hope her vulnerability and emotional fragility are coming across well enough. I swear it won't be like this forever for her...but I do fully intend to drag her through hell a time or two first :)

**Author's Note:**

> A heads up - I am not American (I'm Canadian, eh!) and therefore am out of my element in terms of American military ranks, tours, vernacular, etc. Please keep that in mind as the story progresses. I'll do my best, but I'm bound to get something wrong...hopefully it still makes for an enjoyable read! :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos brighten my day!


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